


Tug Of War

by AllMyShipsAreProblematic, Datmomfriend



Series: Two Truths & A Lie [5]
Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: Angst, Appearances by Morty Soos and Dipper & Mabel, Bittersweet, Love Triangles, M/M, Memory Loss, Post-Weirdmageddon, Stan O' War II, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-11-29 11:41:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 61,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18222683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllMyShipsAreProblematic/pseuds/AllMyShipsAreProblematic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Datmomfriend/pseuds/Datmomfriend
Summary: "What are you doing here?"Rick's already taxed and confused mind did a backflip in his skull upon seeing Ford. He staggered back and stared absolutely dumbfounded. This whole situation was too much, too fast and Rick was afraid he might collapse to the deck if his watery legs were any indication. He hesitated a moment, unable to force any words past his working lips."I could ask you the same thing!" Said Rick at last. It was the only response he could get to tumble from his mouth and it was a cracking, undignified squawk of an answer. He pointed a long finger at Ford like a man haunted."Why wouldn't I be here? This is my home dimension." Ford said evenly. His gun was still trained on Rick's chest. "This ship belongs to my brother and I. So I'm going to ask you to go back to whatever derelict dimension you dragged yourself out of, Rick."Stan couldn't believe what he was seeing.  "Jesus, Ford! Put the gun away..... Wait, do you guys know each other?"Rick added another bombshell dropped onto the Hiroshima that was his mind. He blinked and put his hands into his hair, tugging on it gently."You're sailing...with your brother. Your... TWIN Brother..."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading all the way up to "Tug Of War", the last story in the TT&aL series! We appreciate your dedication!
> 
> If you'd like updates on the possibility of more Stancest/Stanchez works we may do in the future (as well as our upcoming Lupin The Third series "The Language Of Flowers"), TT&aL extras like fanmixes for every story or would like to share the whole series, please follow and reblog  
> on Tumblr at Allmyshipsareproblematic.tumblr.com

It was a hard and fast fact that time travel was strictly impossible.  Rick Sanchez had put it to the test several times in several different ways and if he had come up with no reliable result, there wasn't one to be had. He had been told about the Time Baby and its police force of Time Cop knockoffs but knew that what some people called greater beings just translated into what they actually were: aliens. Even though his most staunch opposition brought up the idea that magic was real and the paranormal played a very real role in the application of time travel, Rick once again knew that the actual answer lay in semantics. There was no such thing as magic. There was just the differing rules of nature in any given one of infinite realities.

Rick had drank time sand (He hadn't known what it was at the time. The sand just looked so pretty swirling in those clear pills in the heady half-light of the hotel room) and knew what a powerful high it was. Given if you drank enough of it, Rick was not surprised one could be convinced that magic and time travel existed.

A more metaphorical Rick might have mused then, that his encounters with "Vulcan Stanford" Pines, dimension unknown, seemed to come and go so quickly, cropping up again before Rick knew it. In reality, their run-ins were actually infrequent, only once or perhaps twice in a year, never at the same time and almost always short-lived but the coded clues they left each other made Ford's presence feel more consistent to Rick than it was. To see each other, both of them had to make an effort. S ito Rick found there was always a gravitas in walking into a room and seeing those dark, careworn eyes studying him like an unsolvable math proof.

It had started out as just a thrilling little series of escapades that Rick had found himself embroiled in. Ford was intriguing in his dual nature. He was straight-laced, bookish and often socially awkward but he was also passionate and adventurous if not downright reckless at times. Sexually speaking, Rick saw both a bold power in what Ford wanted and a servile, hesitant, almost innocent way in taking it. Ford was a genius, yes, but also almost certainly insane and Rick was fascinated by him.

Their relationship, if it could be called that, had multiple ups and downs, usually coming from Rick not being very good at or Ford being too good at keeping their feelings out of the carnal understanding they had reached. The phrase "You're just using me for my body" was bandied around a lot, sometimes as a joke and sometimes less so but with every encounter, Rick and Ford would become that much closer, building a tentative kind of trust. While they would never make good romantic partners (They had tried, very shortly in the early two thousands but that had ended barely after it had begun) they grew to see the other as kindred spirits and on occasion even friends. And the whole time, the years seemed to fly by.

This same metaphorical Rick posed that, on the other hand, time stood still when he returned to Gravity Falls. That was also untrue. The town would change in the tiny ways a small town was apt to do as the last generation died out and the new one born there would grow and take its place. Both he and Stan Pines, Dimension forty-six apostrophe backslash, got older. That was the basis for just about every greeting they had for each other at the beginning of one of Rick's long weekends. Though aside from all that, Gravity Falls and more specifically The Mystery Shack always felt the same. It was inviting and safe. It radiated the glow of campfires and midnight movies on a tube tv. The Shack and more importantly Stan Pines had become a constant in an ever-shifting multiverse that Rick used as a talisman of protection.

He showed up every few months, spending a day or two in the Shack's months of operation and up to a week during the off months. The visits were always full of good food and wonderful company. They didn't always have sex even. Sometimes it was enough for both of them to sleep in Stan's undersized bed (Rick often nagged at Stan to buy a bigger bed in a playful offhanded manner and Stan always replied that it was too suspicious for a single man of his age to get a king size delivered when everyone in town knew he lived alone.) and enjoy the warmth and comfort of the other man's embrace.

There was little talk of what Rick had gotten up to in the time they had apart. When there was it was light and friendly. Rick often worried about his extra-dimensional liaisons with Vulcan Stanford and if they were considered cheating but the more he thought on it the more he reminded himself that he and Stan had no hard and fast rules when it came to fidelity. They were both still growing people, unready to be committed to each other and Stan had no claim on Rick. He made it a habit to remind Rick of that, in fact. Stan had even said once that he was so sure that Rick couldn't keep himself away, that he didn't care what or who Rick did while he was gone. Rick was happy to see Stan have some confidence in himself but he didn't know if he one hundred percent believed that. 

Rick remembered the blow up that had nearly ended this not-quite-a-relationship. When he found out in the attic, Stan had been angry and hurt by Rick seeing another Stanford. It always stuck with Rick but his unflappable logic refused to forget the fact that in effect, they were the same person. Yes, he was aware of Oregon Stanford's distaste for the thought of Rick being with any other version of himself, but Rick felt he was in too deep to abandon the wandering Ford. As someone who had been alone on the road, Rick knew how important it was to have someone you could go to. One person in the infinite cosmos was not a lot to ask for and Rick did care for Ford, as much as they both tried to deny it. Rick did his best to be that person for Ford as Stan was for him.

So Rick and Stan lived their own lives, on the outlying lands of a proper relationship and Rick continued to see Vulcan Stanford. That was until 2011 when Rick and Ford had the fight to end all others. It had ended very, very poorly. Rick had stormed out and not looked back. In hindsight, he regretted his actions, seeing as he was all but sure Vulcan Stanford was dead now, but whom did he have to tell that to now? Their game had ended badly but Rick could do nothing about it.

Instead, Rick focused on his days in Gravity Falls where, if he was honest, his true passion had always lay. He had no desire to get involved with anyone else now that it was just him and Oregon Stanford.

Rick would ask once a visit, never at the same time, if Stan was ready to leave the Shack and come with him. It was never with much gravity, just the phrase "You ready to go?" asked at meetings or partings or over dinner with no pressure to answer in the affirmative. Stan would smile and list his responsibilities and the current state of the portal in the downstairs chamber and Rick would shrug it off and remember to ask again next time.

After about a decade of this, Rick eventually worked Stan down enough for occasional winter trips to different major cities, never outside of the US and definitely never leaving Earth. They would adopt fake names in the myriad of states Stan had been banned from but that kind of added to the adventure of it. Stan did get to see San Francisco and Rick was the one that got to show him, just as he had promised. Rick was very adamant about ringing in the 2012 New Year in Time Square with Stan. Stan had been unsure but once Rick had worn him down, Stan had actually had a really good time. But no matter how much Rick wheedled and cajoled, he could never convince Stan to stay away from Oregon for more than a three day weekend.

Being with Stan for holidays was not of specific importance to Rick. Both of them were a little disillusioned by most of them but if he happened to be around the week of Christmas he might stay long enough to ride it out with his lover. Rick was never there for Stan's birthday. He still purported that in the grand scheme of things birthdays did in fact not matter. He claimed to not even know when Stan's birthday was but every year, a day or two after his birthday, Stan would conveniently find a fresh unopened bottle of Wild Turkey on the kitchen table with no one there to have left it.

There was one day Rick made a concerted effort to visit Stan on, though. May second or as the pair of them referred to it as "Slug Day" was the date Rick and Stan had agreed on as the actual start of their relationship, the part that mattered at least. Neither of them used the word "anniversary" as it was too concrete of a term for the arrangement they had but that was, in all but name, what Slug Day had become. Rick had not missed it in seventeen years.

Stan was always ready and waiting for Rick. He had gone to the barber the day before and gotten a fresh cut and shave. The clothes he chose were always meant to entice Rick, even though his look had a throwback to the seventies feel. The cologne was important. Once Stan realized what it did to Rick he made sure he used it. Even to the point of sneaking a little bit onto Rick's shirts so he'd smell Stan no matter what dimension he was in. 

When Rick arrived the house smelled like his mother's knishes and her Shabbat plates we're out on the table. A mason jar with wildflowers in it set in the middle of the table every single year. Stan had long ago given Rick a key and when he heard the familiar call of "Honey! I'm home!" Stan wiped his hands on a kitchen towel and sauntered out to meet his lover with a deep kiss. 

This year Rick wanted to go right up to the bedroom, or the floor would have been fine too, but Stan told Rick that just because he'd been around more often didn't mean Rick got out of romancing him. When Rick gave Stan an annoyed look, the broad man reminded his lover that there were knishes that had just come out of the oven. This changed everything and Rick was happy to wait until after. 

They ate and laughed then Stan produced a couple six packs of beer and their favorite Wild Turkey. Stan put a record on and the two men danced and drank. Eventually, they made their way to the bedroom, though Rick wasn't picky on which room they had sex in as long as he could get his hands on his Stanley. They always seemed to leave a trail of clothing in their wake wherever they ended up. 

Afterward, they lay together panting, the sweat on their skin drying slowly. Stan pressed kisses to the back of Rick's neck as he felt himself softening inside of Rick. He pulled out and scooted in next to his lover. He lay on his back while Rick lay on his stomach, his long angular face pressed into Stan's pillow. Stanley watched Rick for a moment before reaching over and he ran his fingers through Rick's wild hair. He never talked about Rick's bald spot. It always set the seventy-year-old off on a tangent. 

"Love you, babe." He said quietly. He said this often to Rick but never expected it returned. "Give me a kiss."  Rick rolled over enough to sling an arm around Stan's shoulders and pull him in weakly. 

"Ok, twist my arm..." Rick joked in a dreamy, flirtatious way. Rick lifted his head and peppered Stan's mouth and chin with light and plentiful kisses. Stan chuckled and kissed back. The fact that he could get Rick Sanchez, genius and adventurer, to act so soft and docile always amazed Stanley. It's also why he would broach touchy subjects with Rick after sex. Stan cupped the side of Rick's face, his big thumb rubbing slowly over Rick's cheekbone. 

"Mmm..." He hummed as he pulled away. "Gotta talk about something, Lover Boy."

Rick dropped his head to the pillow and gazed up at Stan. If anyone asked, Rick would adamantly deny ever gazing in his life but he was beyond such posturing with Stan. As always, afterglow made Rick pretty compliant.

"You finally ready to go?" He asked, relaxation overshadowing the hope in the question. Stan cringed slightly. 

"Not exactly." He turned on his side and ran one hand over Rick's back, his head resting on the pillow beside Rick's. "You've been coming around a lot lately. I ain't complaining, I'm just saying." He added the last part as soon as he saw the crinkles on the bridge of Rick's nose start to form. He knew exactly how to read Rick's moods after so many years. "I love having you here, you know that, but... Well, I was talking to Shermie the other day and... We thought it'd be nice to have my great niece and nephew come here for a visit."

All of this was said cautiously. For all of Rick's insistence that monotony wasn't good for him, he really didn't like change when it came to Stanley or the Shack.

"Christ, you have two of them now? When did that happen?" Rick asked in a playful way. He stretched and curled his toes, like a contented cat under the touch of Stan's hand on his back.

"A little over twelve years ago." Stan answered the question with a chuckle. "My nephew and his wife had twins. I was the first one to hold them. Almost didn't give them back." Stan kept petting Rick as he thought of those two little warm bundles. How he'd whispered to the little sleeping babies about how special they were because they were twins. How they would have a friend forever who would know them better than anyone. He kissed their soft little heads and told them to stick together and never leave the other behind. He also remembered how angry Shermie got when he wouldn't let his brother hold his own grandchildren. "Well, they're coming up from mid-June till the end of August. So... I need you to steer clear till they go home."

Rick's eyebrow began to do gymnastics, first jumping up in surprise then crinkling down in a distasteful V. Rick pushed himself up a bit and fixed Stan with a withering look.

"What? What do y'mean 'steer clear'? I'm getting the boot all summer cause your snot-nosed little grandkids are coming over?" Rick hoped he didn't look like he was pouting but sitting up and crossing his arms defiantly over his chest didn't exactly exude joy.

"What are you so worried about? Kids love me."  Rick lied. Stan made a slightly annoyed sound and rubbed his face.

"Rick. The last time I got you to watch the gift shop you told a woman you'd 'drop kick her human larvae if it so much as looked at you'. How is that gonna go over with two preteens in this house?" He looked at Rick. "I don't know these kids. Last time I saw them they were babies."

"That kid was giving me the hairy eyeball!" Rick defended stubbornly. He rolled his eyes. "I still don't see why I'm getting punished here. Like these kids are chomping at the bit to be here anyway. I like this place but come on, it's not exactly Disneyland. They'll probably just be on their phones all summer. They won't even notice good old Uncle Rick."

Stan both loved the idea of "Uncle Rick" and hated it. 

"Oh yeah. I'll let my brother explain to his grandkids why Great Uncle Stan has a guy who comes over and sleeps in his room and they make loud noises all night. I haven't told my family I'm queer, Rick."

That really seemed to surprise Rick.

"What? Why not? Stan, it's 2012. What are you still doing in the closet?" Rick laid himself in Stan's arms. He laced his arms around Stan's neck and looked into his eyes. It was a strangely intense, probing stare. His voice was smokey and ran the line between firmness and seduction. "If your family can't handle who you are, they don't deserve you."

"Yeah. Yeah. 'It gets better', 'let your freak flag fly'..." Stan wrapped his arms around Rick. "I've heard it all. I've danced in public with you in San Francisco. Melissa still sends me Christmas cards from Portland. I'm like her gay grandpa or something. Even with all that I just can't do it." He sighed and settled into Rick's embrace. "It's not like it's any of their business anyhow. Shermie and I get along but we ain't buddy buddy. He doesn't need to know what I do in private."

Rick snorted but didn't let go of Stan. He remembered that night. It hadn't even been a gay bar, just a place with a halfway decent three piece local band. Rick had not taken no for an answer when he stood and insisted Stan join him when they started up a slow song. It was a rendition of 'Red Red Wine' and a bad one at that but the look of dawning realization on Stan's face that no one was looking; that there were no disapproving stares and as far as anyone in the place was concerned they were just another normal couple, followed by that dopey grin of joy had sent Rick into orbit, no matter how much he tried to play it cool.

"You feel that way about your family and you wonder why I haven't gone back to Beth." He intoned.

"It's different." Stan insisted. "She's your daughter whom you haven't talked to since she was four. This is my little brother who -" Stan stopped himself before he said something about how Shermie thought Stanley was Stanford. He had never gotten around to explaining the situation to Rick. He had used the fake name all those years ago because he hadn't thought he'd ever see Rick again. Now here they were. A spectacular backfire. "Who doesn't know his older brothers use to fuck. My concept of family is sort of screwed up." Stan snuggled closer to Rick but his voice was still stern "You're changing the subject. We were talking about the kids coming up this summer. Not my closet status."

Rick rested his chin on the top of Stan's head.

"Ah, yes, we were talking about how you were going to let me come and go as I pleased and also teach the kids about nitroglycerin." He tried his best to keep the tone conversational in hopes that Stan would unthinkingly agree to it but he knew better.

"God, you are such an ass." Stan chuckled. He couldn't help but find this a little amusing even if Rick was being difficult. "Listen, I don't know what's changed recently but you've been over here every month for the last six months at least. And not for a couple of days but for a week at a time. I can't believe you've run out of adventures already." He looked up at Rick, trying to find the answers.

Rick had hoped Stan hadn't noticed the frequencies of Rick's visits over the course of 2012. He knew that his messy end with Vulcan Stanford had something to do with it. It had shaken him and he had turned to Gravity Falls as a sanctuary. Rick would be lying if he said he didn't feel responsible for Vulcan Stanford almost certainly being dead now. He had let his anger cloud his judgment and decided it was easier to not care. Rick was very good at not caring and even better at suffering in silence so Rick chose to not tell Stan about any of it.

He could've made some kind syrupy joke about Stan being the only adventure he could want but he was above such platitudes. Rick made a prideful face that was all theatrical sneers and quirked eyebrows. 

"Listen, the day I run out of adventures is the day the multiverse stops making them. Can I not just want to be with you?" Said Rick. His face melted into a smile that was far more genuine "You sure there's no way I can convince you to let me hang around?"

"Taking care of two kids and the shack AND you is more than I can handle." Stan tried to tell Rick this in the softest way possible. He held on tight to his lover. "Could we work out a trade maybe?"

Rick pulled back enough to look down at Stan properly. There was mischief and a playful kind of suspicion in his gaze.

"Oh really? And what do you have that I want?" Rick brushed his nose into the side of Stan's head, taking in the fragrance of his hair and lightly kissing the shell of Stan's ear. "You're gonna let me take it out of your hide, Stud?"

Stan hummed his pleasure at Rick kissing his ear. "Mmm...what if we trade time for time. You give me three months this summer and I'll give you three months this winter." Stan leaned his face into Rick's touch. Rick sat up and regarded Stan with barely contained excitement. He took Stan by the arms and searched his face.

"That, that's the whole off season. You're going to give me the whole off season? Like all at once? Are you serious?" He asked. Smiling from the place Rick now had him pinned, Stan nodded. 

"Serious as a heart attack, babe. You get me for the whole off season. I won't even mention the shack or the portal."

Rick could have jumped out of bed he was so excited. It had been like pulling teeth to get Stan to even run off for an overnight trip. The man was obsessed with his business and responsibilities and while Stan knew how to have a good time, there was always the looming threat of duty that Rick had to contend with. Something else occurred to Rick.

"Can I take you off planet?" He asked delicately. The hope had crawled back into his heart and Rick stalwartly ignored it. Stan's smile faltered a bit. He hadn't thought of that but if he was with Rick he'd be safe. It could be fun. 

"Ok. Ok, off planet is a go but nothing too crazy, you got it?"

Rick whooped loud enough that somewhere outside a bird (or some other flying creature) abandoned its nearby perch with a squawk.

"All right!!" Rick's gravelly voice was filled with triumph. "Rick and Stan winter break adventure!" Rick hugged Stan to his chest almost crushingly tight.

"Aw, I could kiss you, Stud!! And I mean, since I'm here..!" Rick laughed lewdly and rolled Stan over onto his back, diving in to capture his lover's lips. Stan wiggled his arms free and wrapped them around Rick. He kissed back. He was happy to make Rick happy. He loved this man, as wild and unpredictable as he was. Stan pulled back. 

"It's a deal then, huh?" He gave Rick a cheesy grin. Rick made a show of pretending to think about it, dramatically humming and hawing and pitching his head from side to side. At last, he brought his forearm up in front of Stan's face. He put Stan's hand on it and watched him expectantly. For a moment Stan stared in confusion at the man on top of him then a grin broke out on his face as he caught on. Stan very gently turned Rick's arm in his hand and Rick reacted by theatrically hissing through his teeth and pitching his upper body to the side as if Stan had, in fact, twisted his arm.

"Ok, ok, you bruiser. You convinced me. It's a deal." He said through a laugh. Stan rolled them over and kissed Rick as they laughed. 

"Now don't go thinkin I've given up on the portal. You can come by the end of November and pick me up, Lover Boy." He kissed Rick deeper and slower this time. "Take it easy on me, babe. My heart may be yours, but it's still old."

Rick's own heart could have melted.

So Rick kept his word and left Stan alone to his devices. He was still curious about how Stan was getting on. The thought of Stan as a doting uncle was intriguing, to say the least, but Rick steeled himself to not poke his nose into the Shack for a peek.

Though that left Rick with nearly four months of free time on his hands. No matter where Rick bummed around this time nothing seemed nearly as new, fresh or exciting. Perhaps it was the impending chance to finally show Stan the potential of where and what they could do together. Rick thought he should be using this time to plan an itinerary but every time that chore came into his head it never really stayed long before Rick's mind would wander away to something else.

Rick could only imagine what children related to Stan by blood would be like. Would they be like Stan regardless of never meeting him before? It wasn't really a possibility, Rick reminded himself. People were shaped by what the world had done to them and not what genetics you shared with any given person. Those kids had no obligation to get along with Stan but if anyone could make relative strangers like him, it was Stan. 

Rick refused to say he was jealous at Stan's new bond with his family because he wasn't, (of course not) but the thought of his own family would not stop hounding Rick's brain. Beth was grown. She had a husband and a pair of kids now. A boy and a girl. Rick saw a minor correlation in his and Stan's circumstances and it put a worm into his head that wriggled and burrowed and refused to leave him alone. Could someone really just walk into your life and, under the pretense of being blood relation, make a bond with nothing else to back that bond up?

It wasn't like Rick could put off this reunion for another thirty years. He had run out of legitimate excuses and at last had enough undistracted time to see it through. Four months was a long time after all and would make for more than enough time for an accurate spread of data. Rick was sure Stan would have plenty to say about 'Grandpa Rick' but it was like a hypothesis begging to be put to the test and now Rick's interest was peaked.

Rick had very strong first impressions on his family. Beth was still his darling girl and could possibly have been the genius Rick suspected she could be if not for some poor decisions that had forced her into a tragically suburban life. To say her husband Jerry was a half-wit was giving him too much credit. Their daughter Summer was as shallow as a puddle on a sunny day. Her interests strayed no further than her phone and the latest boy she could string along but there were moments where she refused to take Rick's shit and that gave Rick a begrudging respect for her.

Then there was the boy, Morty. He was neurotic and hopeless and desperate for a strong male role model. Rick couldn't blame him for that with the milquetoast father he had been saddled with. Out of all of them, Rick liked Morty the most. He was obedient and willing to go along with Rick's plans and if he ever bothered to grow a spine, Rick could perhaps one day even see the kid grow up to put one foot outside his mediocre little upbringing and see what the universe really had to offer.

It didn't hurt that the boy radiated stupidity waves strong enough to completely mask Rick's brain signature. The boy was useful and while Rick kept himself at arm's length as he did with everyone, he actually had fun being able to see the distant corners of the multiverse anew through Morty's eyes, even if he did throw the kid in at the deep end and against his will most of the time.

Rick had dragged Morty along on November thirtieth with the intention of showing his off to Stan. He wasn't proud of the kid, God no. Rather Rick was interested in seeing the look on Stan's face when he dropped the bomb that he had reconnected with his family. From there he planned on a stop off back to Dimension C-137 to drop Morty off and maybe even dinner with the family. It would be awkward. Jerry would try to say something to remind the room how tolerant he was and it would backfire and make him look like an idiot. Rick was looking forward to that immensely. Then it was into the spaceship for ninety days of pure bliss with Stan.

Rick stepped from the portal and up the porch step without waiting for Morty to stumble out and follow him.

"Hey, uh, r-r-Rick? What uh, what exactly are we doing here again? You- you didn't really tell me-" Morty stammered, looking around at his surroundings. He had quickly learned in the past four months to become aware of the environment as soon as he entered it.

"Just picking up an old friend. Relax. Try and look precocious, like, like you just had the summer of your life." Rick said, giving Morty as little attention as possible. He put his key into the lock and let himself in.

"Ding dong, Avon calling!" Rick called out, crossing through the downstairs hall to the TV room. He didn't see Stan and continued his trek through the den toward the gift shop "Hey Stan?"

Pushing through the back door of the gift shop, Rick smiled as he saw the familiar swatches of color that made up Stan's Mr. Mystery suit amongst milling tourists. Rick stopped in his tracks when he saw that the body shape was all wrong. It was a bottom-heavy silhouette reminiscent of a bowling pin and Rick recognized it even as the man turned around.

"Soos?" Rick asked approaching the man. Morty scurried after him. Soos Ramirez turned and smiled at Rick.

"Mr. Sanderson! Dude! Haven't seen you in, like, years!" The large man turned his buck-toothed smile on Morty. "Who's this little dude? You friends with Mr. Sanderson?"

Morty began to stutter a reply, a combination of introduction and questioning why this large man was calling his grandpa by the wrong name when Rick cut him off.

"What's going on here, Meatball? Where's Stan? What's with the Mr. Mystery cosplay?" Rick jutted his hip out, arm crossed over his thin chest and appraised Soos' outfit critically. Placing his hands on his big hips, Soos puffed out his chest with pride. 

"I'm the new Mr. Mystery, dude. Mr. Pines was gonna close down the shack since he was going away with his brother but ya know I couldn't let that happen."

Rick could have been knocked over with a feather. This wasn't the plan. Rick couldn't drag Stan away from the Shack kicking and screaming and now suddenly he had passed it on to Soos without a word? Rick shook his head as if he could will the news into coherency. 

"Woah woah, slow down there. You're saying you own the place now? What the hell happened?" He asked the large man. Soos' face was a study in excitement. 

"Oh! Oh, dude! What a story! I hope you got, like, sixteen hours to spare. It's a story of weirdness and houses that turn into giant robots. My fanfiction couldn't even hold up to it." He took a deep breath. "But in the end, Mr. Pines gave me the shack and Abuelita and I moved in."

From the corner of his eye, a small stout figure stood in the doorway to the den. Rick turned his head and surveyed the icy glare he was receiving. The " _Bruja_ Look" as Rick had called it for years. 

"Rosa." Rick said in greeting with a nod of his head. Rosa Ramirez closed the door slowly while still giving Rick that same look. Rick shuddered and swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. Rick wasn't afraid of much, but he was always going to be wary of her. He sensed that Rosa wouldn't put up with Rick "the bad influence" around her little _mijo_ without the tempering effect of Stan to protect him.

"She still upset about that time I shaved you down looking for Damien Omen birthmarks?" Rick asked conspiratorially. Soos laughed hard enough to make Morty jump.

"Oh, oh ho ho, yeah dude. She, like, totally can't stand you!" He agreed in a jolly tone. Rick tried to steer the conversation back to its main subject.

"Focus, Soos, focus. You said Stan was going away. Where to and why?" He asked.

"Like all over, dude! The Mr. Pineses gotta boat. I think I got a postcard around here someplace." Soos moved over to the cash register and sifted through some things before finding it with a triumphant "Ah ha!". He brought it back to Rick and offered it to the older man. "Came in the mail, like, a couple days ago." On the postcard's glossy surface was a beautiful vista and in one corner in big red letters read "Spain".

Rick's head was spinning. Stan had ditched him for a sailing trip with Shermie? And before the end of the off season no less. Since when did Stan and Shermie get so close? None of this was adding up. If Rick wanted answers he was going to have to go to the source.

Rick felt around in his pockets and brought out an old scuffed looking palm pilot. His vitals tracker had saved Vulcan Stanford's life in dimension CT-78. Now it was battered and slightly out of date but it worked and Rick knew you never threw anything away because you never knew when it could become useful down the line.

He had slipped its matching microchip on Stan's chain after a particularly crowded and rowdy outing to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. It was mostly brought along as a precaution. He had very rarely used it in the past but Stan has a tendency to get in over his head and Rick did not abide by anyone trying to mess with his Stan on the road, so better safe than sorry. 

The blackberry pinged to life and at once began to crop up with notification after notification signaling elevated heart rate and blood pressure and all manner of insane readings. Rick's eyes scanned the backlog of worrisome readouts, his eyes widening. All of these readings had happened in a very short period of time on same day late in August, rising to alarming, dangerous rates and then suddenly dropping off into a valley where there was zero brain activity that sat flatlining for upwards of five minutes before very slowly creeping back to resting levels.

Rick's mouth fell open as he tried to make sense of these readings. Stan had been scared, in pain and then...then what? Brain dead? Had he had a stroke? Been technically dead on a hospital bed somewhere before a pack of doctors had hit him with the defibrillator?

"The hell, the hell is all this?" Rick uttered, confused and upset. He held up the blackberry for Soos to see as if the man would have any idea what it meant. "What happened to my boyfriend, Soos?!"

Rick had begun to lose his temper and was raising his voice but kept it in check as he could feel Rosa's eyes on the back of his skull even through the wall. Morty looked at Rick, flabbergasted at that.

"Wai-wait? What? Boyfriend? Wha-"  He began.

"Not now, Morty. Yes, I have a boyfriend. Don't be a homophobe." Rick told him evenly, barely tossing a glance over his shoulder at his grandson. People were starting to stare and Morty was uncomfortable with all those eyes on him.

"I'm not- I wasn't-" Morty tried to speak again both to Rick and the room at large but Rick had already ejected Morty from the conversation. Soos' eyes crossed as he tried to look at the blackberry shoved into his face. When he finally saw the date his ever-present smile faltered. 

"Dude. That was Weirdmagedon. If it wasn't for the Pineses we woulda been in big trouble."

Rick had asked for Soos' insight but had heard none of it. He was studying the real-time vitals and pressing buttons in an attempt to lock onto a more accurate location than somewhere in the Mediterranean Sea.

"I'm going to get to the bottom of this..." Rick was growling emphatically to himself. The blackberry blipped again and Rick's eyes lit up with a triumph that Morty had learned to recognize and be cautious of. "Aha! There you are!"

Rick retrieved his portal gun from an opposite pocket, quickly double checked the blackberry and entered something into the input. With an unceremonious twitch of his thumb, a shifting green portal came to life in the middle of the gift shop.

"Uh, Grandpa Rick, where are we go-" Morty started. 

"Grandpa's got something he's gotta take care of, Morty. Just hold that - hold that thought." Rick said in a dismissive way. He stepped through the portal, not looking up from the blackberry and it closed before Morty could follow him. Morty stood there in the middle of the gift shop, not knowing what to do with himself and folding under the weight of his own embarrassment as everyone in the gift shop was staring either because of the display Rick had caused with his portal gun or because they were convinced Morty was some kind of homophobic prick. Soos seemed least off-put by it all and Morty looked to him with a well-behaved timidity. He hoped this guy might have an answer to what was even going on in this place.

"So, uh, you like dinosaurs, dude?" Soos asked.


	2. Chapter 2

The mist on the water was refreshing and Stan hummed happily to himself. He had insisted on catching dinner himself and Ford had chuckled at Stanley's optimism and gone below deck, but not before Stan grabbed his hand and pulled him in for a kiss. Ford had blushed and admonished Stan for such open displays of affection. The younger brother waved his lover's worries aside and reminded him that they were in the middle of the ocean on the way to Barcelona while pulling out his fishing gear. Now he was sitting on a fold-out chair with his feet up on the side of the boat. It had been a week since the giant squid and Stan felt like the world belonged to him and Ford.

Stan wiped some of the ocean spray from his face and smiled through his beginnings of a beard. Living on a boat agreed with Stan. He was getting stronger. The muscles that had gone to waste in Gravity Falls were really being put to the test. He still had a gut but it had gotten harder as the weeks went by. He didn't jiggle quite like he used to and that made him feel good about himself. He hadn't gone for his regular haircuts as it was not as convenient and his hair was getting shaggy under his red knit cap. He hummed happily and made to reel in his line so as to give it another cast. He was happy and so was Ford and that was all he could ask for.

The rush of air and smell of ozone ran up the deck and tousled Stan's hair. He heard the sound of footsteps on the deck and a strange sound like a B movie laser beam in reverse. Stan turned around in his seat. Perhaps Ford was working on one of his little science projects.

Rick stood on the creaky wooden deck. The lavender glow of early evening shot streaks of color through his pale hair. He wore a face of unabashed relief only just barely dredged up from a mire of shock and fear.

"Stan..." He breathed. Stan blinked owlishly at Rick. He looked left and right and up into the sky as if he was looking for something.

"How the hell'd you get on our ship?" Stan asked as he stood. He looked over the man and took in the lab coat. There was something tickling at the back of his skull about this guy. The way memories pushed at him that he hadn't recovered yet. He squinted his eyes skeptically at this odd intruder. "You one a my brother's friends?"

Rick tipped his head to the side, eyebrow furrowing in playful confusion. He took a few steps across the deck.

"Hardly." He chuckled "Very funny, Stan. Now, what's going on out here? You told me to pick you up at the end of November. What happened?"

Stan's body language was guarded. Another skeptical look passed over Rick.

"I don't know you. Why would I ask you to come here and get me if I don't know you?" The memories were shifting. Forming. It had something to do with the Shack. The ghostly figures Ford had told him not to worry about. "You sure you ain't my brother's friend? People get us mixed up sometimes. You look sciency. That's more of his thing."

The shock that had passed when Rick first set upon Stan was replaced by a confusion and a feeling that something was very wrong. He continued to approach Stan, checking the blackberry again (for what he didn't know) and speaking cautiously and unbelieving now.

"The hell are you talking about, Stud? It's me." He laughed a bit perhaps to keep Stan at ease, but there was no humor in it and it petered off a breath in.

The nickname of "Stud" caused Stan's eyebrows to raise. Someone had called him that. Could it have been Carla? He was sure it wasn't Ford who didn't seem to like pet names the way he did. Another once over told Stan this man wasn't a threat. He couldn't see any weapons on him but Stan reminded himself that weapons didn't have to be seen to exist. The lab coat put him at ease though. They had been around scientists for days after the giant squid.

"I'm telling you, buddy, I don't think I know you." He said again crossing his arms over his chest. Stan was sure he could take the tall skinny man if worse came to worse.

Rick's body was numb all over. What had happened to his Stan? How could he possibly not know Rick? Rick made all but a step away from Stan, hands lifted, the blackberry still held in one, as if Stan was an easily spooked animal. Rick was not one to panic, but he felt a terrible tensing in all his muscles and a shortness of breath that hinted that the contrary was on the horizon.

"Stan, you know me." Rick said it firmly, mostly in an attempt to ground himself "It's Rick. We know each other."

"I don't know any...." Stan started but paused. That name sounded familiar but he still couldn't place it. "I don't know any Rick." he said slowly. He should be telling this guy to get off their boat. He should be annoyed with this man but he just couldn't. What was happening?

Rick dropped the blackberry and it clattered to the deck so he could reach out and take Stan by the shoulders. His wide scared eyes looked deeply into Stan's and Rick was alarmed to see that there was no recognition there for him.

"Stan, Stan that's not true. We've been through, through thirty years together. What the hell did they do to you?" Rick's mind was racing and none of the thoughts were good. The fingers of both hands slid into Stan's hair, tips touching at the nape of his neck and Rick searched this man's face for any sign of his lover.

When Rick's fingers slid into Stan's hair his first reaction was to pull away but then the memories flooded back. Thirty years of memories overwhelmed him as they hit him all at once. It was nothing like when he first got his memory back with his family. That had been gradual. This happened all at once. Stan clutched at the front of Rick's shirt and his knees buckled. He hit the deck hard still clutching fist fulls of blue fabric and dragging Rick down with him. The large frame shook and his head tilted back with a gasp. It all happened so quickly.

Stan could taste the strong bite of bourbon and pancakes in his mouth. Flashes of bar signs, giant slugs and wild blue hair on the pillow in early morning lights. The sound of rain on a tin roof and Zeppelin played on an old guitar. Ozone and cigarette smoke in the air. The feel of lips against his and a long-fingered hand reluctantly sliding from his own.

All Stan could do was shake and pant and remember.

Rick sunk to the ground with Stan, eyes frantically darting over his form, looking for some kind of physical cause of the man's sudden attack. On the deck beside them the blackberry beeped and whirled, heart rate and brain wave readings spinning out of control but neither man noticed it.

"Stan?! Jesus Christ, Stan, stay with me! What's happening to you?!" Rick was panicking now and he pawed Stan, trying to hold him up and keep him from collapsing on the deck. Rick tilted Stan's head to keep Stan looking at him but Stan's eyes were all but rolled back into his head.

With a shuddering gasp, Stan stopped shaking and went limp in Rick's arms. His forehead pressed to Rick's shoulder. He felt exhausted but that can happen when you suddenly regain thirty years of your life. Stanley was catching his breath when it sunk in who was holding him. The familiar feel of Rick's arms around him and his of smell of chemicals and ozone.

"Rick." he breathed. As he lifted his head. "Oh my God, Rick!" Stan threw his arms around the other man's thin shoulders and held him tight. "I forgot! I forgot! I'm so sorry! I left without telling you but there was no one there to remind me."

Rick stopped holding his breath and gratefully if still confused, returned the other man's embrace.

"It's ok-" Rick swallowed the thick lump in his throat and started again "It's ok, Stan. I'm here. I'm here now..."

Stan pulled back and looked up at Rick. The gaps were still closing but it was mostly back. "I never would have left without telling you if I had remembered. I'm so sorry." With that, he kissed Rick. It felt right.

Rick kissed back and it was exhilarating. It felt like their first kiss all over again but also completely different. This had all the same passion and urgency but none of the lust that had set their first kiss off in Palmer's Peak back in 1985. That had been completely replaced by the more familiar emotion of Stan's bottomless affection. Rick's heart rattled in his chest whether from the kiss or Rick's panic turned relief he did not know. At last, he broke the kiss, not wanting to but needing to finally get some answers.

"Everything's okay. It's alright. You don't, you-you-ya- you don't have to apologize. I'm just glad you're okay, baby. You're fine." Rick was not as prone to keep his tender side under wraps with Stan after all their years together but never opted for it as a default defense mechanism against the world. At this moment in time, Rick did not care. He stroked Stan's back and held him in a comforting embrace, just relieved that Stan was alive and in one piece. The why's and wherefores would come later. For right now all there was was him and Stan and the gentle toss of the sea. Stan smiled.

"We got a lot to talk about, Lover Boy." He pulled himself to his feet laboriously. He was still about wobbly but was feeling a bit better. "Ah! I'm gonna hate my knees tomorrow." he grumbled before offering Rick his hand. "Come on. On your feet, old man." He said with a little smirk as he clasped Rick's hand in his and hauled the tall man to his feet.

"Stan! Are you alright?" A deep voice called from called from inside the ship and footsteps could be heard as the owner of the voice headed towards the deck.

"Oh boy." Stan grumbled. He hadn't let go of Rick's hand and he gave it a reassuring squeeze. "This is gonna be awkward but let me do the talking, ok?"

"You're making quite the racket up here. I told you if it's too much trouble we have plent-" Ford had emerged onto the deck and stood there staring like he had seen a category ten ghost. He had the beginnings of a beard like Stanley but his hair was the same as Rick remembered it before their bad parting of ways.

Stan was about to explain who Rick was and where he had come from when Ford's eyes fell on the clasped hands of the two men. His brow furrowed and his eyes went cold. "Get away from him!"

Stanley only had a moment to look confused before Ford stepped between him and Rick, parting their hands. Ford glared at Rick. His hand slid into the folds of the blue hoodie and in a second Ford's laser gun was pointed at Rick's chest. Stanley couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Woah there, Sixer! Calm down! Put that thing away! He's a friend of mine!"

Staunchly ignoring Stan, Ford addressed Rick. "What are you doing here?"

Rick's already taxed and confused mind did a backflip in his skull upon seeing Ford. He staggered back and stared absolutely dumbfounded. This whole situation was too much, too fast and Rick was afraid he, like Stan, might collapse to the deck if his watery legs were any indication. He hesitated a moment, unable to force any words past his working lips.

"I could ask you the same thing!" Said Rick at last. It was the only response he could get to tumble from his mouth and it was a cracking, undignified squawk of an answer. He pointed a long finger at Ford like a man haunted.

"Why wouldn't I be here? This is my home dimension." Ford said evenly. His gun was still trained on Rick's chest. "This ship belongs to my brother and I. So I'm going to ask you to go back to whatever derelict dimension you dragged yourself out of, Rick."

Stan couldn't believe what he was seeing. It was still off to him when his nerdy brother went all John McClain. "Jesus, Ford! Put the gun away..... Wait, do you guys know each other?"

Rick added another bombshell dropped onto the Hiroshima that was his mind. He blinked and put his hands into his hair, tugging on it gently.

"You're sailing...with your brother. Your... _twin_  brother..." Rick put it together as deftly as he could. Rick began to pace, heedless of Ford's gun and the discipline with which he followed Rick with it.

All the pieces had fallen into place and Rick felt like a fool for not seeing it before. Everything from Ford's ignorance to his own dimensional coordinates to both "versions" of Stanford having a high school affair with their brother. Ford's tattoo, the triangle in the circle on his back. It was the shapes of the Uber portal in Stan's basement. Even that journal, full of Ford's handwriting (how had he not recognized that handwriting?!), had six fucking fingers on the front! Ford was The Brother, bane of Rick's existence and the only obstacle between him and Stan all these years? Rick cursed his idiocy.

"Fuck....oh, fuck! Oh hell no, there's no way. No possible way..." Rick babbled to himself. He suddenly stopped hard mid-step, his foot coming down solidly on the deck. He turned his gaze on Ford, callous and angry. He faced the man, legs splayed in a power stance. He had to know. He spoke in a clear low voice.

"One. Two. Three. Four. Five..."

Ford's body went ridged. The finger on the trigger tightened ever so slightly. His muscles twitched.

"Rick. Stop." he said in a dangerously calm voice.

Rick was not satisfied.

"Six. Seven. Eight. Nine..."

"Olly olly oxen free." Ford said through gritted teeth. His other hand came up to steady the gun. He was aiming for a kill shot.

Rick's face fell and it had nothing to do with the gun pointed at him.

"Holy shit, it IS you..." He breathed and it was an equal mix of awe and dread. He stood there in Ford's sights, still and arms limp.

"What the fuck is going on!?" Stan had had enough. He pulled the gun from Ford's hand. "Gimme this! Give it to me!" He took the gun from his brother's big hands. Ford still glared at Rick. "If you do know Rick, you know pulling a gun on him doesn't do anything."

"I know but it felt good." Ford growled.

Stan rolled his eyes. "Ok macho man. You know I don't like to be left in the dark. You two actually know each other?"

"Intimately." Ford said darkly. His eyes finally shifted to Stan. The look had softened and he looked almost apologetic. The look on Stan's face was full of surprise. His jaw dropped and he turned to Rick.

"Is that true?"

Rick looked to Stan as if he had just remembered he was there too. He made a face like a dog who had been caught eating his master's slippers.

"Stan, baby, you don't get it. We met after it went south with you and me. The first time. We had a few laughs but then -" here Rick's voice brightened cautiously "but then, you and me got back together and I swore I was never gonna see him again."

Rick shuffled a few feet toward the pair of men. He hesitated. He didn't want to say anything charitable to Ford but he had to tell the truth. He toyed with his hands, twisting and flexing them awkwardly.

"Then... things got... complicated. Ford needed somebody he could trust..and that was me. He was alone and I was the only person he could turn to. You know how we weren't exclusive, right? Not really. I thought, you know... he was just another version of you and I couldn't leave you all alone out there. How could I do that to him?" Rick was immediately defensive but he knew how suspect this all was. He sounded exactly like every shitty cheating boyfriend on record and he was deeply embarrassed by it.

"You're blaming me for your infidelity?" Ford gaped. "Stanley, give me my gun back."

"Stanley?! Your name is _Stanley_?!!" Rick exclaimed. He knew that was not the subject of scrutiny here but it was another in a long string of unwelcome new revelations being dropped on his head this evening. He pushed it away from the forefront of his mind. Stan didn't look away. Rick was transfixed in his cold, hurt stare.

"No. Only cause we dock tomorrow and clean up would be a bitch." He said in a low dark voice to Ford. He felt sick. He addressed Rick now. "The one thing you knew would upset me was you fucking another me. We've been through this! It was all I asked of you! So you find what you think is another me and end up fucking my brother? The fuck is wrong with you?" 

Stan's eyes and demeanor held the darkness and power of the mob boss character Stan had shown a few times now. Once with Bonparlo Fin Gloosie and the other time had been at Rick's insistence for a more private game. Rick saw the darkness there and wondered how much of this had ever been an act for Stan. What little nudge was needed to push him to the dark side? Rick didn't want to find out.

Rick took a few steps across the deck and addressed Stan, ignoring Ford completely. Rick was ashamed and it was written all over his face but he was also concerned with trying to defend himself.

"Look, I... fucked up! I mean, woah did I ever royally fuck up on this one! But you gotta understand, I really, I really did think he was a parallel Stan. If I knew he was your brother I wouldn't have kept seeing him. Hell, if I knew he was your brother I would have brought him back to you. I swear it." Rick turned on Ford, not wanting to acknowledge him let alone try and go to him for support, but he saw no other alternative. "None of us could've guessed. This is a huge case of cosmic goddamn serendipity! Tell him, Stanford!"

Ford started to answer but Stan cut in.

"I'm not mad that you fucked my brother, Rick! I'm mad that you knew it would hurt me if you fucked a parallel me! I didn't care if you fucked a woman or an alien or even another guy! They could give you something I couldn't but you could have always come home to me! You knew that and you still couldn't keep your dick in your pants!"

Stan turned away and Ford could see the pain on his brother's face. Before he could stop himself he said: "I knew."

Rick, who had been stepping forward and reaching out to touch Stan, stopped dead in his tracks and looked at Ford disbelievingly. His mouth hung open slightly. He closed his eyes, brow furrowed as if trying to find the right words and his mouth snapped shut in a tight purse. He inclined his head downward and exhaled through his nose like he was letting off steam. It was the physical manifestation of the thought process of a man who was trying not to scream but desperately wanted to.

"Ex...cuse me?" He said in a low tense way. Ford could feel the eyes on him. Both Rick and Stan.

"I knew it was Stanley after the first time we were together." Ford's voice was low and assertive as if he was giving a dissertation. "What you told me about this parallel Stanford didn't correlate with me. But it did correlate with Stanley. Especially after you told me he boxed." Ford turned to Stan. "I thought it was a one night stand. I thought you left Oregon after I went through the portal. I lost Rick on Molluscara Beta and didn't hear from him for a couple years but when I did receive a message from him to meet again he wanted our relationship to become romantic. I pushed him away, Stanley. I told him I didn't want anything more than sex from him."

Molluscara Beta. Stan knew that from somewhere. His newly restored memories filled in the rest. He turned back to Rick.

"After Slug Day?! You son of a bitch." he said to Rick. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Rick's shame and embarrassment were two-fold now but so was the hurt and betrayal. Hearing Ford reiterate that how he hadn't wanted Rick still stung after all these years. He looked to Stan, frantic and furious.

"You didn't want me! I mean that's what it felt like. I thought I was okay! That I was over you and okay with not staying with you but... Hell, how many times do you two have to reject me?! Goddammit!" He whirled on Ford. "And you! You knew this whole time?!"

"Not the whole time. Just at the end." Ford said. There was a little bit of an arrogant smile on his face. He was ready to hammer the last nails into Rick's coffin. "I only knew you and Stanley had kept seeing each other after what you said to me when you were leaving the last time."

"Wait. What?" Stan's gaze had turned on Ford. It was searching. Ford turned to Stanley.

"If I had known sooner I would have ended it with Rick."

"That's not what I care about. You knew about Rick and me when I was trying to remember everything and you didn't tell me?" Stan looked shocked. "I thought I was going crazy cause I kept remembering someone in the shack and you told me I was imagining it." Stanley poked Ford in the chest accusingly.

Ford blinked at Stanley in surprise. "I was protecting you from him."

There was more Ford wanted to say but Stan cut him off. "No! You were trying to decide what I was gonna remember about _my_ life! You had no right to do that! You're almost as bad as him!" Stan gestured towards Rick.

Rick was seeing red now. He didn't have all the facts and there sure as hell seemed to be a lot of them scattered and rolling about on the deck still but he could gather this much. Something had happened to Stan and Ford had seen fit to use that to erase Rick from the picture and insinuate himself right in the middle of the only good thing Rick had going. It was a convoluted and petty plan but Rick wouldn't have put it past himself if given the opportunity. A thought struck Rick's brain like a bolt of lightning.

"You mother fucker!" He shouted. Rick crossed between Stan and Ford and held a protective arm out as if to shield Stan from Ford. "This was your plan from the start, wasn't it? You got me to give you those coordinates and that portal fluid just so you could come here and take Stan from me! You manipulated me just like you're manipulating him right now! How do I know that you're even his brother; that this is even your dimension?! You saw an opportunity to get back to something like your old life and get back at me in the process and you fucking took it because your miserable ass couldn't stand to see me happy! You sneaky fuck!"

"You are an egomaniacal sociopath!" Ford shot back. He puffed out his chest and set his jaw. "You think anything I do has anything to do with you? I don't care about you enough to concoct such a paranoid convoluted plan! You aren't worth that much of my time! Stanley fixed the portal and with no help from you! He found my journals and brought me back! This is my home, not yours! You aren't welcome here! Neither needed or wanted!" He balled up his fists. His muscles were bunched and ready if Rick should take a swing at him.

"That's right. Talk a big game, asshole. I should have let you die in New York." Rick sneered. He addressed Stan but never took his eyes off Ford in case he chose to attack. "Come on, Stan. We're getting out of here. I'm taking you home."

Rick took a few steps back in and groped behind him to take Stan's hand. He reached into his coat for his portal gun with the other.

"What? I ain't going with you." Stan said stepping out of Rick's reach. "This is my home."

Ford smirked at Rick. Rick started visibly and turned to Stan. He looked back to Ford then returned to Stan.

"You're not serious." He said, his words unsteady.

"You lied to me for decades, Rick." Stan said. He tucked the gun into the back of his pants like he had in the old days. "Why would I go with you when I can't even trust you? And I ain't some princess that you are lookin' to rescue. I'm the big man. You better remember that. Now get off our ship. I've had enough of this crap for today."

He wheeled on Ford and stuck one of his big fingers in his brother's face. "And _you_ can wipe that smug look off your face too cause you ain't sleeping in our bunk tonight. I can't trust you either."

Ford was floored. He hadn't thought Stan would be mad at him. "But Stanley..."

"Don't you 'but Stanley' me." Stan cut Ford off. "You can sleep in your lab or on the deck for all I care. Figure it out, Poindexter."

With one more glare at both men, Stan turned and stomped down the stairs to the inner parts of the ship. The remaining two men stood on the deck, staring the other down. It was a wordless moment of pure vitriol where the threat of making Stan more angry was the only thing keeping them from swinging.

"I'm not done here." Rick told him darkly.

"I think you are. Get off _our_ ship, Rick." Ford put emphasis on the word "our" before turning and heading towards the interior. It would have been more dramatic had he still worn his trench coat, instead of the more casual look he had adopted.

"Is it everything you'd thought it be?" Rick yelled at the man's retreating back. It was a low blow, a call back to what passed, for him and Ford, as an intimate moment. The only thing that made the whole situation palatable for Rick was that Ford was just as much in the dog house as he was. Ford looked over his shoulder at Rick.

"It was until you came." he sneered before walking through the door. Rick, fuming and hurt, jabbed the button on his portal gun and stepped through. He wasn't done, he swore it.

Stan stomped through the small galley, only stopping for a second to pull the gun from where he'd tucked it in the back of his pants and leave it on the countertop by the sink. It was an old practiced move he hadn't used since Columbia. It made him feel like a thug. Stan wondered why every encounter with Rick made him feel like that. His dark side coming out. He never really liked it.

The galley was what had sold him on this particular ship. Prep and cooking area on one side. Cozy seating area on the other. Ford could continue his work at the table while Stan cooked.

Their sleeping area was beyond the galley. It had been a room with beds on opposite sides but they had had it discreetly remodeled to have a single large bed in the middle of the room. A couple of side tables on either side built into the wall where Stanley often put Ford's glasses after he fell asleep. There was a blue and white star patterned quilt on the bed. It was made. Ford always insisted that the bed be made every morning and though Stan grumbled through it he did as his brother asked.

Stan sat down heavily on the bed. He snatched the red knit cap off his head and threw it on the bed with some malice. He growled and ran his hands through his hair before resting his elbows on his knees and pressing the heels of his hands over his eyes. After he'd sat there for a moment Stan heard footsteps in the galley.  
  
"Whichever one of you that is, I'm still mad and I don't wanna talk to you."

Ford stood in the cramped doorway, holding the edge in an apprehensive six fingered grasp.

"Well, I do." Ford said as sympathetically as he could still coming down from the grips of tension Rick had put him in. He added softer now, "May I come in, Stanley?"

Looking up at his brother, Stan gave a long-suffering sigh before slumping a bit defeated. "You gonna play it straight or are you gonna keep stuff from me again?" he asked annoyed.

"Don't be obtuse." Ford sighed, exasperated despite himself. He stepped into the bunk room and stood at the end of the bed. "I want to speak with you."

Stan looked away. "I ain't bein' whatever you just said and I'm still mad." he looked up at Ford and there was pain there. "How could you keep all that from me?"

The hurt in Stan's face made Ford feel about an inch high. Ford stood rooted to the spot for a moment before steeling himself and moving to gingerly sit on the bed beside his brother.

"You have to understand, Stanley. I was doing what I thought was right. Rick is dangerous and unpredictable. He's selfish and I couldn't risk letting him hurt you." Ford put his hand over Stan's own on the quilt "Not after I almost lost you."

Stan didn't pull his hand away. He did look down at their hands. He was a sucker for Ford's hands. "You ain't gonna lose me. You're stuck with me, you knucklehead. Rick ain't all bad either. I don't know what you two had but we had a thing going. It was good. You gotta promise me you won't do that to me again, Ford."

"Of course!" Ford said, emphatically almost in a panic and he shifted forward, his hand actually curling around Stan's own now. He cleared his throat and seemed to collect himself in an attempt to make up for his outburst of emotion. "I can't begin to understand what you had with someone like Rick, but I don't blame you for being drawn in by him. He's... magnetic."

Chuckling, Stan squeezed Ford's hand in his own. "That's one way to describe him." he shifted closer to Ford and rested their joined hands on his thigh. "You can't understand cause you're the same damn person." There was a sad reminiscent look on Stan's face but he was still smiling softly. "When you were gonna kick me out of the shack at the end of the summer I was gonna go with him. Didn't have anywhere else to go and he'd been trying to get me to go with him for years so I thought 'why the hell not?'. I didn't know he was running around on me though. Guess I shoulda known better."

Ford went through a handful of emotions. The first was a sour, childish kind of repulsion at being compared to Rick. He refused to believe he was anything like that megalomaniac but a smaller part of him was loathed to admit that there was a sliver of truth in it. The next was shame for his petty, anger driven threat quickly followed by the cold dread of the possibility that he could have lost Stan forever if he had gone through with it. It and all the revelations from just before left Ford drained and exhausted. He settled on saying what was in his heart as juvenile as that sounded.

"Well, I'm certainly pleased that I saw the error of my ways. I can do without you as well as I could without my own right arm, Stanley. You know that, don't you?"

"I know. And you know I can't go on without you either." Stan turned his head to smile at Ford. He tilted his head ever so slightly and kissed his brother on the corner of the mouth. "But that don't mean I forgive ya yet. We got some trust to build back up. You ready to put in the work, Sixer?"

Ford took Stan's hand and held it up between both of his own. His hands were warm.

"I'll never keep anything from you again. I'll never just assume you aren't strong or prepared enough to be a part of any decision that needs making." It felt earnest and intimate, like a proposal. So much like when Ford had asked Stan to come along with him on their ship. Ford chuckled to himself and lowered his gaze bashfully. "I should have remembered that from the start. I can only get so far on my own. You and me forever, right?"

Ford looked back at Stanley and his smile was blinding. He squeezed his brother's hand. Stan leaned forward and kissed Ford, soft and slow. They had shared passionate kisses and stolen ones in dark corners of back-alley bars (though Ford couldn't keep from blushing after and Stan couldn't keep from smirking that he had made his brother blush) but this was love. Stan thought back to Rick. Their kisses had never been like that. There was always heat and need. There was lust and, in a sense, love but not like this. Not the way Stan and Ford came together like droplets of water. It was natural for them. Stan slid his lips away from Ford's and rested his forehead against his lover's.

"You and me forever." after a beat, he added. "I love you, Poindexter."

One of Ford's hands curled around the back of Stan's head to keep him close. The other squeezed Stan's hand a second time.

"And I love you, Stanley." Ford's voice was peaceful.


	3. Chapter 3

The sun rose the next day over the beaches and odd architecture of Barcelona as it did in most places. The Pines brothers woke in their shared bed and kissed each other in a tradition that had fallen into place over the last couple of months. It was freeing. They would also kiss before going on deck if they were going to split up for the day, telling each other to be safe and when they would meet up again. Today was one of those days.

Ford's anomaly tracker had picked up something odd here in Barcelona. Ghosts were not uncommon in very old cities and Barcelona had some dark history. The plan for the day was for Ford to meet with some historians and Stan was going to explore. Though the delegation of tasks may have seemed unfair, it really did work for them. Ford liked to work and Stanley had a tendency to get bored and start touching delicate equipment he shouldn't have been touching. Stanley had a good sense of direction and could figure out where pickpockets and con artists would be. It surprised Ford when he found out Stan was fluent in Spanish and he had encouraged his brother to try other languages. After a few days in Reykjavik, where they had entrusted the care of the giant squid to the local scientists there, Stanley had a very good concept of Icelandic. It was mostly swear words and the ability to order food but it was better than what Ford could do and Ford was very proud of his lover.

Before leaving Oregon, Wendy had set the men up with cell phones and showed them both how they worked. Soos had tried to help but he kept downloading games and wallpapers and ringtones that Wendy had to delete later so the sixty-year-old men wouldn't get confused. Ford had signed up for a bike sharing program when they had docked and it had warmed Stan's heart to watch his brother ride off, a tad unsteady at first, to the office of their contact.

The area of Barcelona they were in was called El Gotic or the Gothic Quarter. Its dark maze-like streets and ancient architecture of the Roman Wall and the thirteenth century Barcelona cathedral spoke of the age of the place. El Gotic was beside Port Vel where the boys had docked their boat, making for the perfect place to start exploring.

Stan began his exploration in the Mercado de la Boquria. There was plenty of fresh veggies and fruit along with other things the two men needed to stock up on to continue their adventures in their ship. There was tapas also and while Stan was getting hungry he decided he wanted to find someplace less crowded and where he could get a beer.

Stan moved down the main tourist thoroughfare. La Rambla was crowded and Stan moved his wallet and phone to an inner pocket of his jacket. It was easy for pickpockets to steal from a distracted tourist while watching street performers. Stan should know. It had always been an easy way to make a little extra money when you really needed it on the boardwalk of Glass Shard Beach and it was truly the same everywhere.

The small side streets called to Stan and he slipped down one and away from the heavy press of people. Artists stood along the walls selling their work. Stan stopped to listen to a duo playing a guitar and a trumpet. The guitarist sang a jazz standard in Spanish and Stan stood, tapping his foot to the tune and smiling. After a few songs, Stan dropped some money into the open guitar case and went on his way.

People chattered in Spanish around Stan. He understood it but was finding little differences in the dialects. Some words didn't mean quite the same thing but Stan was picking up on the differences. As Stan passed by one of the many storefronts along the street he looked at his reflection. He really did look like a sailor in his jeans and white t-shirt. His cap helped to cover his shaggy mane that he usually kept trimmed but he was glad at his age that he still had that much hair. December in Barcelona was much milder than it was in Oregon but he had tossed on his brown long coat as the breeze in the harbor had made it seem cooler than it was. He was glad for it now as the labyrinthian streets were shaded.

It was a relief to step out into the sun at Plaza Reial. The square was lined with little restaurants and Stan approached one with pink and white seats and nice linens on the table. The waiter was polite and seemed surprised when Stan answered him in Spanish. He ordered morcilla blood sausages, sardines both fried and in vinegar and patatas bravas. He also ordered paella to go with his tapas and two beers. The waiter wrote it all down and excused himself.

"Come on, Rick. I ordered enough for both of us." Stanley said without turning in the direction of the man who had been following him since the marcat.

Rick stepped out from behind the large square pillar he was standing behind, hands stuffed guiltily into his pockets. He walked over, seeing to no need for secrecy now that he had been called out. He pulled out the chair across from Stan and took a seat heavily.

"Well shit. When did you get slick...?" He huffed in equal parts exasperation and a grudging kind of admiration. Rick slung an arm back behind him over the chair's backrest in a posture of indifference.

"The Rick I know wouldn't give up as easily as you did last night." Stan said. The table was in the sun and he was getting very warm. He slipped off his coat and hung it over the back of his chair. The pocket with his wallet and cell was between the chair and his back. "So you wanna talk or what?"

"Honestly, what I want is to get you out of here. There's not much to talk about." Rick replied through a distasteful grimace. He couldn't meet Stan's gaze so he kept his eyes trained down and to the right of him.

Stan looked up at Rick a bit surprised. The waiter came over with a small tray. He took from it two bottles of beer and two glasses. He placed them on the table and left as Stan thanked him. "Get me outta here? Why? Something bad coming? "

Rick did look at Stan then. There was an expression of surprise in his face.

"Jesus, he really does have you messed up. Didn't think he'd be so far along with any kind of memory erasing tech." Rick snorted and snatched up his beer, ignoring the glass entirely. He sipped from the bottle, disgusted. "Squirrelly little fucker..."

Stan's mild look grew a little harder. He poured his beer into the glass and picked it up.

"You better not be talking about Ford." he said evenly. "He did erase my memory but he had to. We had no other choice."

Stan took a big gulp of his beer before placing the glass down. Rick rolled his eyes so hard his head tilted with it. He leaned forward in his seat and gesticulated fervidly as he spoke.

"Don't apologize for him. He was bitter about what happened with him and me so took you away from me, the petty dick. He wanted to teach me a lesson and keep you all to himself. I've got to get you away from that manipulative asshole, Stan, before he can mess with your memory any more than he already has."

"He hasn't manipulated my mind at all. In fact, he stayed up all night with me after Weirdmagedon, helping me remember who I am." Stan waved the whole thing aside. "But you weren't there so you won't understand. I don't think anyone who was even there can really understand."

"There's that word again. Soos mentioned it back at the Shack." Rick scrutinized Stan and rolled his wrist, making the beer swish gently in the bottle he held. "In fact, there's a lot of shit that happened while I was gone, wasn't there? You think I won't get it? Try me. There's not much that goes over my head. You know that."

There was a sliver of the old provocation that Stan had seen so many years ago when they first met but it was tempered with a kind of concern that was oddly touching. Stan chuckled and smiled a bit. There was the man he'd fell for.

"Yeah, you missed a lot..." Stan almost called Rick 'Lover Boy' but stopped himself before it left his mouth and he mourned the death of the nickname. "Did Ford ever tell you about Bill Cipher?" He asked taking another sip of beer. Rick put his face in his hand and his elbow down on the table.

"Not you too." He groaned. "I thought you'd be smarter than all that, but he's clearly gotten to you."

Stan laughed. "Yeah. I shoulda known he said somethin'. It's practically all he ever talked about." Their food came and Stan held off talking until the waiter left. "Listen, I ain't got any proof but he's real as you and me. He was in my head. Only way to get rid of him was to erase my memory." Stan said it all in a nonchalant way as he dug into the fried anchovies and blood sausage.

"Listen to yourself, Stan. That's exactly the kind of story Ford would feed you if he wanted to keep you in line. This is always what he wanted. Someone to agree with him and stroke his ego and make him feel like he was in the right all along." Rick said, aghast. It was staggering to Rick that Stan couldn't see the blatant, suspicious lies Ford was feeding him.

"If Sixer was messin' with my brain why would he let me remember you and everything we had for the last thirty years?" Stan asked as he spooned himself some paella. "Wouldn't he have erased you again last night after you left?" he looked sincerely at Rick. "And why ain't you eating? You're getting too thin. I can't eat all of this on my own."

Rick was instinctively sour that he didn't have an instant comeback to explain that. He decided deflection was the best way to save face.

"Come on, I know I'm a motherfucker but that doesn't mean you get to treat me like some Jewish mom..." Rick rested his chin on his fist and sighed in a peeved way but he couldn't hide the fondness he felt for Stan. It was a relief to see his Stan after the scare he had given him last night. Stan laughed again.

"you're such an asshole." He smiled and took another drink of beer. "I mean it though. I'll sink the ship if I get on after eating all of this. The anchovies in vinegar are really good."

Stan had made a solid point. If Ford had the ability to rewrite Stan's memories indefinitely this conversation wouldn't have happened so effortlessly. That had been one of Rick's initial concerns this morning. He has planned to approach carefully and ingratiate himself with this old sailor when his brother's back had been turned. Hell, Rick surmised, he had picked up Stan once before on a mere whim. Doing it again wouldn't be too hard. But all of that had hinged on getting Ford away from Stan which surprisingly had come to pass before Rick could do anything himself. His ever-present paranoia made itself known, extrapolating that all of this could be a set up perpetrated by Ford, implanting suggestions into his brother's head to placate Rick.

But under the shaggy hair and start of a beard, Stan was there. Rick could see that and though Rick's mind warned him that it was his mutinous heart coloring his opinion, Rick was unwilling to believe that Stan, subconsciously or not, could do that to him. Rick began to eat.

"See. I told you it's good." Stan said smiling. He popped a whole fried anchovy in his mouth. He watched Rick for a moment. "You aren't gonna do that sulky eating thing you do when you're not getting your way, are you?"

Rick fixed Stan with an unimpressed face and not breaking eye contact, shoved two big bites of roasted potatoes he had draped with fried anchovy into his mouth. He plucked a mussel from the paella and slurped it moodily from its shell adding to his already full mouth. He chewed his oversized mouthful and still somehow managed to scowl. Stan rolled his eyes.

"You're a mess. If you're gonna be a bitch I'll tell you exactly what happened. Do you wanna hear this or are you gonna be a brat?"

Rick, with some difficulty, swallowed his theatric mouthful and followed it with a swig of his beer.

"I was hoping I could manage both but if I press my luck you might not kiss me goodnight at the end of this date. I still might miss out with this anchovy breath." He teased. He waited a beat then added in a tone that dismissed any judgment "Tell me everything, Stud."

So Stan told Rick everything. Dipper and Mabel discovering the magic of Gravity Falls, finding all three journals and restarting the portal. His brother's return and the subsequent fight. Weirdmagedon was hard for Stan to talk about. He'd been scared. His family was in danger. He got through it and told Rick about regaining his memory. He spared Rick the details of him and Ford getting together but alluded to it. They had a couple of rounds of beers while Stan spoke. The food slowly disappeared. Once he was done Stan looked at Rick.

"So... what'd you do over your summer vacation?"

Rick stared at Stan through his fortress of beer bottles. If Rick Sanchez could ever look flabbergasted, it would be now.

"I...I moved in with Beth." He said unbelievingly. It wasn't much in comparison, not when Rick was accustomed to accusing Stan of living domesticated but it was the truth. For just a moment Stan paused with the beer bottle halfway to his mouth. The glass was long forgotten. It took him just a moment to remember who Beth was but when he did he sat up straight.

"You did? That's great, Rick. How is she? You got grandkids?" He set his bottle down on the table and looked at Rick expectantly. Rick sugarcoated nothing and this was no exception.

"She got knocked up by her tool of a boyfriend as a teenager. Married the schmuck. Got two grandkids. Girl and a boy. She's a bitch and he's spineless as a jellyfish. So yeah. American dream." He grumbled. It did nothing to dampen his appetite. He shoveled the last of the paella into his mouth and washed it down by emptying his beer. He motioned to the waiter impatiently for another round.

"Jesus Christ, Rick. When did you become such a bitchy angry old man?" Stan sat back in his chair with an exasperated sigh. He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. When the waiter came over with their fresh beers, Stan asked politely for the check. He turned in his seat to get his wallet out of his coat pocket. "Can't you be happy about anything?" He asked without turning to look at Rick.

"Would I be as much fun if I did?" Rick said with a lively kind of cynicism. He pushed Stan's beer to him.

Stan turned around with his wallet in hand. He hadn't seen this particular personality of Rick's since the nineties when he had shown up on his doorstep beaten and looking for shelter. When he had been mad at Stan for lies that were told in an attic room. When "Ricardo Sanderson" threatened to reveal his secrets and had ruined his tour by insulting him. Stan did not like this Rick. Picking up his beer bottle, Stan looked Rick dead in the eye.

"No. But you never were when you got like this. "

"To my people. The bitchy old men of the multiverse. May it be nothing but pussy, painkillers and Prilosec til our dying day." Rick lifted his beer. Stan raised his own and brought it close to Rick's.

"And may I never become one of them." Stan gently knocked their bottles together and took a deep drink. It tasted differently but not bad. It was his sixth though so perhaps he was just getting a little drunk he reasoned with himself. He'd sober up by the time he met Ford at city hall though. The waiter left the bill on the table and Stan paid it quickly before knocking back the rest of his beer. He had little to say to Rick when he acted like this.

"I gotta go or I'll be late." his own a speech sounded a little slurred to his own ears and he hoped Ford wouldn't bitch him out for getting day drunk.

"Actually you might want to stay sitting for a minute." Rick told Stan. He was busily moving plates and bottles away from Stan's side of the table.

"Huh? Why?" Stan asked.

"Because I just drugged you. You're about to pass out. Don't want you to hit your head." Rick replied nonchalantly. He swigged his beer. Stan started at that and he tried to say something but the words went mushy in his mouth and the table came in to meet his face before Stan's whole world went black.

"H'yup-" Rick belched and pointed a finger gun at Stan's unconscious form. "Bingo."

He stood and began to haul Stan off as if the sight were an everyday normal appearance.

 

  
Stan's mouth tasted like stale beer and his head hurt. Without opening his eyes he knew he was in a bed. He could feel the pillow under his head and the blankets under his fingers. He couldn't, however, remember getting back to the ship. One arm reached behind him to take Ford's hand and wake him up to ask what had happened but the bed beside him was empty. Stan opened his eyes and found himself in a very unfamiliar room. Had he had another memory blackout? No. No, he knew he was Stanley Pines. He had lived in Oregon and before that many other places that lead back to New Jersey. He was sailing with his brother, Stanford, on the Stan-O-War II. He went through the checklist Ford had given him if he thought he was forgetting again.

Sitting up quickly, Stan felt the room tilt from the rapid movement and his head pounded like Mabel running through the shack chasing Waddles. His fingers flew up to his temples and there he found something plasticy stuck to the skin there. With a small amount of difficulty, Stan peeled it off and looked at it. It was a little plastic sticker shaped like a suction cup with a little metal knob on it as if it was meant to attach to a machine. Stan reached up and wasn't quite surprised to find one on his other temple. He looked at the two round stickers for a moment before everything came back to him. Tapas and beers in the plaza. Wait. No. Drugged beers actually.

"Rick!!"

Rick looked up mildly from the armchair he was sitting in. He was not lounging back in its cushion but perched at the edge, forearms braced on his knees and fingers loosely folded together. His head had been down until he heard Stan shout for him.

"Oh." He said and his voice was morose and annoyed. "Hey."

"You son of a bitch!! You goddamn, mother fucking bastard!!" Stan threw the stickers in his hand in Rick's direction. They didn't go that far but Stan wanted to throw something. He got up from the bed a bit wobbly and approached Rick. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Where the fuck are we?"

He was clenching and unclenching his fists. Now he wanted to hit something but beating the crap out of Rick wasn't going to get him back to Ford.

"Relax, you're fine." Rick said, standing himself now. He crossed somewhat haughtily to a table. All kinds of dial and button covered machines were sitting there, the biggest one looking like a cross between an EKG machine and a VCR. Also there was a handful of medical supplies, including, to Stan's concern, a sealed scalpel. It wasn't opened from its plastic and paper wrappings but Stan didn't like what it implied. Rick was beginning to pack everything up into a duffle bag. "You weren't going to let me check you if you were awake. I figure he inserted a kind of mental block that refused to submit to that kind line of thought. That or you'd just be too stubborn."

Stan blinked in surprise. This was a whole other level of paranoid thinking. He looked around the room and put together that it must be some cheap hotel. He looked back at Rick. "You scanned my brain?"

"Of course I did. For chips and unfamiliar brain signals. Something Ford could've rigged to keep you stupid and happy and believing in his hero's journey power fantasy." Rick's tone was disdainful and he knew he sounded like he was talking down to Stan. He huffed a sigh and tried not to be petulant. He failed. "But there's been no tampering in your prefrontal cortex. No evidence of implants or any kind of suggestion. You're clean. Everything you said happened."

Rick zippered the bag closed and looked up at Stan for the first time.

"Ford was right. I'm the asshole." He took his portal gun in hand and punched in a few commands. When he pressed the button, a swirl of green ozone scented energy appeared in the room. Rick took the duffle bag by the strap and with a pendulum swing of momentum, tossed it in.

"I'll just go." He grumbled. Rick approached the portal. Stan's hand shot out and grabbed Rick's arm.

"Wait. Just wait one damn second." He eyed the portal. "Just turn that off for a second and sit down and talk with me. Please." The look in Rick's eyes was breaking his heart. It looked so painful. So lost. There had to be a way to make him understand.

Rick's irritation visibly fizzled in him then like the hackles of a perturbed alley cat. He did shut off the portal but only because he was given the opportunity to try and be a bigger, if somewhat avoidant, man and Stan refused to let him take it. He had missed his chance to not cause a fight. Rick wrenched his arm away and reeled on Stan.

"Talk about what? How my stretch as your emotional cock holster is done now that Mr. Wonderful is back? That you nearly died because of all the shit he fucked up in the first place? You're killing me, Stanford!" Rick's face screwed up as it occurred to him "Or should I say Stanley? Christ, you don't look like a Stanley! You might as well call me Richard. Fuck sakes!"

"You think I don't know I fucked you over? You don't think that makes me sick?" Stan shot back. He made an exasperated noise and sat down hard on the end of one of the bed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm the asshole. I've known that for a long time." He swallowed hard and didn't look up at Rick.

"Well, you know what? Welcome to the human race." Rick collapsed hard next to Stan in a defeated posture. "We're both assholes here. You were always telling me you loved me but not enough to let me be a permanent part of your life. I was stupid enough to take it to mean it was ok to try and replace you before you could replace me. That kind of environment does not breed loyalty."

Stan turned his head and looked at Rick.

"I didn't ask you to stay because I knew I'd never be enough for you. And you never ask to stay. You only ever asked me to leave. The one time you wanted to stay you decided it without talking to me. We never talked. Not about the stuff that mattered."

"I didn't figure we need to. We had our thing. I didn't cause waves. That was enough for you. I didn't want to bring it up again." Rick looked back and there was scrutiny there. "And if I did, was the answer ever going to be any different? We're you ever going to not choose Ford?"

Stan gave Rick a deadpan look.

"You didn't cause any waves cause you weren't around long enough. We never got out of the honeymoon period. I asked you to stay the first time I brought you to the shack. You gave me the 'my way or the highway' speech then left me standing there." The look on Stan's face softened. "I thought about asking you to stay after you talked me into going to San Francisco but when you dropped me off you looked at the shack like it was a prison. Like it offended you and you'd burn it to the ground if you could. As for choosing...." he took a deep breath. "I never thought Ford would want me again. I was gonna go with you in November and when you went to bring me back I was gonna ask to stay." There was a mirthless chuckle out of Stan. He leaned a little against Rick. "I guess I'm not as dumb and ugly and useless as I thought if I've got both of you chasing me."

It sickened Rick to know how damn close he had been to getting his way. It put a fresh spike of hatred for Ford into his heart. But for the first time since this whole mess began he felt himself soften. Stan had such an accurate hold on his emotions even now.

"I told you you were a ten." Rick assured Stan softly. He put his arm around Stan's shoulders in a kind of cold comfort. They were both silent for a moment.

"I could whisk you away. Take a knee, propose to you right here. Would that change anything?" Rick joked in a voice that said he knew what the answer would be. It was a self-deprecating jab at his own accursed emotions; an attempt to lighten the mood but it fell flat in Rick's head.

"How'd you feel when you found out I left without you? It'd be worse for Sixer. He's my other half." He said it all in a resigned way. "I didn't realize how much we needed each other till he came back. What happened between you two to make you guys hate each other so much anyway?"

Rick hesitated to give Stan all the gory details but that would be thinking too little of him. He could tell this man anything and, to a certain extent, he had.

"Jesus, what didn't happen?" He worked his lips soundlessly thinking it over a bit then puffed out his cheeks in a deep exhale through his nose. "Ford and I had an arrangement. We'd meet up, have a good time and each go on our way. Suffice it to say, it was less flowers and chocolates and more whips and chains."

Stanley blushed. He did know that Ford preferred him to take the lead. His brother liked it when he was rough with him but 'whips and chains' wasn't exactly how Stan would describe the interactions. He wasn't exactly surprised but hadn't expected Rick to be so candid.

"Oh." he said lamely. He couldn't say honestly that the images this conversation was conjuring up didn't make him hot under the collar.

"It was just sex..." Rick said in a way that suggested that Stan not get so flustered about it. He shrugged, working his shoulders uncomfortably as the thought marinated. "...until it wasn't. Ford needed somebody to flip the off switch on his brain. Give him a break from the stress and the danger of being alone out there and the more I flipped that switch the more we got to know each other. And the more we got to know each other..." Rick trailed off, thoughtful. He seemed to come to his senses a moment later.

"I'm not in love with him!" Rick splayed his hands as a sign of innocence as if that explanation didn't make things worse. "We just, I don't know, got each other. He told me he trusted me, Stan. And I trusted him. Felt good..."

"Guess I should be more surprised by that but like I told Ford last night, you're the same person. Who can you trust more than yourself." He rested a big hand on Rick's knee. "So where did it go wrong?" Stan asked quietly. The thought of Rick trusting anyone was kind of a surprise though. Rick had only said it to him once and had demanded a response from Stan. Rick pulled out his flask and uncapped it, punctuating his words with disdainful little sips as he spoke.

"He was going to kill himself, Stan. Ready to die some noble, bleeding heart hero's death against that Bill guy. I don't know how far he made it before you fished him out of the ether, but you know, you make sure you're looking out for someone, you're in their corner, right? And then they decide to throw it all away no matter what you do to help them. Somehow that makes me the bad guy! I saved his ungrateful ass so many times! One time I needed to save him from himself and I got pissed and stormed out." Rick growled. The thought of that night still got him riled and admitting to his neglect in the situation only added in making him feel ashamed and ugly. He took a deeper pull from his flask.

"Asshole..." He added bitterly. Stan sighed.

"Can't say I wouldn't have done the same thing. He can be a stubborn asshole sometimes. I pulled him out just in time and he punched me for it." He chuckled a little remembering their fight. He watched Rick for a moment. "How long ago was it?"

"Last year." Rick replied, "I was convinced he was dead up until yesterday as a matter of fact."

Stan remembered about a year ago when Rick had suddenly shown up at the shack at two am. His lip was busted and his jaw bruised. He had crawled into bed with a half-asleep Stan and had proceeded to fuck Stan until the sun came up. Thank God it had been his day off the next day. Even then Rick had been despondent. Yet he hadn't let Stan out of his sight. A line had to be drawn when Rick tried to follow him to the bathroom. Another night of lovemaking came after and Stan was very tired the next day. Rick laid in bed in a depressive funk and by the time work was over he was gone. The whole thing had been off but Stan had written it off as Rick's oddness.

"Must'a been a shock." Stan said. "We did you wrong, Rick. I'm sorry about that. I did mean it when I said I loved you though. I never would have said it if I didn't mean it." He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Anything we can do to make this right?"

"A big sloppy twin fantasy threesome would be nice." Rick tried to make the joke sound easy but it came out deadpan. "Spare me, Stan. I'm usually too much for people. Now I'm not enough for two. I mean, I knew deep down The Brother would replace me but man, being dumped twice and both of them going off together?! That's a new one."

It would be a lie if Stan said he hadn't thought of having Ford and Rick in bed with him. It would also be a lie if he said he was surprised Rick had thought of it too. He shrugged a shoulder and gave Rick a sidelong look.

"I don't think that you aren't enough for either of us, Rick. It's that by ourselves we aren't enough for you. I'm a sap. I need Ford to make me tough. And he needs me to soften him up sometimes. We need each other. I can't imagine you needing anyone."

"Cause I don't!" Rick said a bit sharply but then he thought about Morty. The boy needed him, with his nonexistent social life and admittedly inadequate parents. That much was certain. He was a coward and buzzkill and had a knack for slowing Rick down but he was also honest and innocent and a lot of things Rick wasn't. Sometimes Rick wondered very quietly if Morty was different than all the rest.

"I know. But we ain't as strong as you. We need someone else. I wish it wasn't but it's true." Stan said quietly. As he watched Rick's face all Stan wanted to do was to kiss the other man. To kiss him the way he kissed Ford. Just so Rick would understand what they had. That would be a bad idea though. He knew if he kissed Rick in this hotel room it wouldn't stop there. He still wanted this man. Then a thought struck him. He smiled. "Rick, I-"

"Stanley! Stanley, where are you?"

It was Ford's voice. A tad frantic but still assertive.

"Looks like he found us." Stan let out a resigned sigh. Rick stood. His body was all tense, angry angles. His fists were balled up at his sides.

"Of course it's Mr. Wonderful. I'm going to knock his head right off his shoulders. Not for you, Stan. I just owe that guy one across the jaw." He scowled and began the journey across the room. He flung open the door, muscles poised to spring into actions. Regardless, he refused to reign in his smart mouth.

"Welcome to the party, Rambo. You're just in time. Stanley here was just crucifying my ego with all the 'it's not you, it's me' he's got in him."

Ford stood on the other side of the door, his muscles tense as he glared at Rick. "Where's Stanley? I swear to God if you've done anything-"

Stan's big hand came down on Rick's shoulder and he pulled the tall man back a bit. "I'm right here, Sixer. I'm a grown man pushing seventy. I don't need you defending my virtues."

He pushed past Rick and the anger melted from Ford's face. One big hand came up and touched the side of Stan's face. "Are you alright? "

With a curt nod, Stanley said, "Nothing happened." His own hand hooked around Ford's wrist and pulled his touch away. Their eyes met and it felt like they had a silent conversation. Ford's eyes shifted back to Rick.

"Lucky for you. " Rick favored Ford with an unshaken glower.

"Careful. Your unbridled machismo might give me a heart attack." Rick told him in a snotty way. "He's fine and is in the process of kicking me to the curb so you've got nothing to worry about. I'll show myself out."

"Nuh-uh." Stan said. He placed one hand on Rick's chest and pushed him back towards the room. Another firm hand went to Ford's shoulder and pushed him towards the door. "You two got some talking to do. I'll see you on the Stan-O-War when you're done." he poked a thick finger into Ford's chest. "If you lie to me Sixer, I'll know. Remember, you're still on probation." he pushed both men into the room and shut the door behind them.

The pair of them stood there, in silence. Rick looked at Ford and when he looked back, Rick just as quickly looked down and crossed the room to sit in the armchair. He did sit back in it now, slumped and legs stretched out like those of a particularly far-reaching spider. He held his forehead with his fingertips at the temple.

Ford took a few unwilling steps into the room. Something about Ford standing at the door and Rick seated like that across the way from him was uncomfortably like their last night together but he didn't want to dwell on it. Neither of them spoke for some time, electing to both try and wait the other's stubbornness out from their respective corners. It was strained and awkward.

"D'he make you sleep out on the deck?" Said Rick at last in a puerile grumble. He didn't want to be here and really he didn't have to be. He could just leave. But even now, Rick could deny Stan no request made of him. Rick folded his arms tightly over his chest.

Ford shuffled his feet a little. He didn't want to relax or get comfortable around Rick. He was very happy standing thank you very much. He clasped his hands behind his back like a professor about to give a lecture.

"No. I slept in our bed after we spoke." he said nonchalantly then added in an exhausted tone. "As you heard he's put me on 'probation'. For how long I'm unsure."

Rick barked a sharp somewhat humorless laugh.

"He never makes it easy, does he?" He said and there was admiration in it. Rick shifted in his chair and held his chin in his hand. The sound of the laugh caused Ford to stiffen and remember a snowy night at the end of a millennium.

"No. He doesn't." he agreed and his posture became more relaxed. There was silence again but it wasn't as deep. Ford looked around the room, searching for something to say. If he didn't even attempt to talk to Rick, Stanley would know. Ford couldn't lie to Stan. He took a deep breath and said what he'd wanted to say for a long time. "I shouldn't have hit you. No one deserves to be hit. Especially when it's from someone you trust." He looked sheepishly at Rick. "Perhaps trusted is the more accurate word."

"No. No, you shouldn't have. I was trying to help you." Rick said, sternly. He looked down and to the side, still refusing to make eye contact.

"I know that now." Ford said a little impatiently. He took a deep breath and said it more resigned. "I know that now." he looked at Rick. Really looked at him. "I was always so jealous of you." he admitted almost too softly for Rick to hear.

Rick did look up then. The way Ford was staring at him made Rick feel too exposed. The memory of Ford bound and his hair cut like Samson was still strong and Rick saw the same kind of beautiful, scary scrutiny in Ford's eyes now.

"What?" He asked, genuinely surprised.

"You're smarter than me and I hate it." It looked like the words tasted bad in Ford's mouth. "You could figure out my ciphers and clues like they were child's play but the few times I had to find you, the clues were maddening. You are more than I could ever be. And you didn't even care." He said this all of this with a dark reverence and just a bit of self-loathing. "I was also jealous that you had Stanley. That after all that time you could make me want him again when I thought I was beyond that."

Ford looked away and his breath hitched before he stepped closer to Rick. He stood before him in those comfortable clothes that he had adopted in his new life the way he had stood before Rick in Gear World. Only then he had been stripped bare physically. Now he was stripping himself bare emotionally.

"You made me jealous of Stanley. He had you first. I would always be second to you. I _knew_ that when you touched me, when I made you hard, when you were inside me, when you came and you moaned my name it wasn't me you were moaning for." Ford's heart was pounding and he couldn't catch his breath. "There were too many times I wanted to be yours but no matter how much I wanted to love you I couldn't because my jealousy was stronger. And for that, I'm truly sorry."

Against his will, Rick jaw dropped. He looked up at Ford and from where he was sitting Rick felt like Ford was towering over him. Rick remembered that Samson had pushed a temple down on top of himself and his enemies and it sure as hell felt like Ford had dropped a ton of bricks on him now. Rick gripped the arms of the chair.

"Wow. That's... That's a lot to take in." Rick said in a husky voice like someone had knocked the wind out of him. He stood, not wanting to be pinned down by Ford's gaze above him. It only served to stand them mere inches from each other. Rick wasn't sure that was an improvement.

"How do you follow that up?" Rick asked, stumbling over the lameness of his hypothetical question. He sighed so hard his shoulder rose and sagged with it. "Apology, accepted, I guess."

There was another silence, this one colored with a new different layer of tension. Rick forgot how potent the atmosphere could get between the two of them. He sidestepped out of the way of Ford to put some much-needed space between them. Stan had left the two of them to kiss and make up and Rick knew things would go over like a lead balloon if he had found that to be literal.

Ford closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief as Rick stepped away. It was not that Ford didn't want to be near Rick. On the contrary, he wanted Rick to tear away his clothes shove him down onto the bed and push inside him so badly Ford could taste it. He did not want to betray Stanley in that way. Now he could never do that.

"Ok, well yeah. I guess it's my turn." Rick pushed on. He turned to face Ford. The words were slow to start as Rick always had more than a little difficulty in admitting his faults.

"I was wrong. About Bill, I mean. If I really trusted you I would have believed in what you said about the nightmare dimension. And I wouldn't have gotten angry about the plate and the Oracle and the hundred other stupid little things I know I never let you live down. I'm sorry."

Rick scratched at his bald spot and studied his shoes.

"Apology accepted." Ford said softly as he looked over his shoulder at Rick. He paused for a moment. He supposed that that was enough for him to go back to Stan-O-War but there were still a few things that needed to be cleared up for them. "Was it what I had done, what I was planning to do? Or was it that I trusted her so easily that upset you so much that night?"

Rick looked up swiftly at that. He was sure he looked agog by Ford's candor but it was too late to try and withdraw the expression. He didn't know how to answer that without looking like a fool.

"Both." He said honestly. The disdain in his voice was for his own weakness. Rick crossed the room and leaned against the wall heavily.

"Whatever. It's not- I don't care. I don't!" Rick said perhaps a little too vehemently then huffed and started again. "That doesn't matter. I'm just glad you're not dead."

Rick's lip twitched up at one side.

"You look good, actually. You gained some weight."

Ford smiled and turned to look at Rick more clearly.

"I am also glad to not be dead." he chuckled lightly. "Stan pulled me through the portal right before I was going to defeat Bill. I punched him too. My hubris would have been my undoing." His eyes swept over Rick. "I've been trying to avoid the fact of my weight gain for some time now. Contentment weight, I suppose. You also look good. Less... Transient." He smiled a genuine smile as he said the last part.

"That's a compliment, I guess." Rick chuckled. It was in Ford's too blunt, too socially awkward way. Rick could sense the ease he had only shortly glimpsed on New Year's Eve in Ford. The way he held himself and the humble tilt of his head. Ford had hurt Rick and that has colored his impression of him. He only knew the Ford that was unable to care or see beyond his own needs but now Rick saw a softness in Ford he's never known him to be capable of. Rick presumed that Ford's time in Gravity Falls had changed him. Rick knew how that felt. "Stan's been taking good care of you, huh?"

Ford blushed. "Yes. I suppose he is." his expression turned a bit more somber. "And I hope that I'm taking good care of him. He... Still forgets sometimes." There was part of Ford that said Rick had the right to know this. "It's only happened twice and we're unsure if it will get better or worse. Our mother had Alzheimer's so that may play a role in it but I've found a very efficient way of bringing him back."

The last time it had happened had been their first morning on the ship. Ford woke up to Stanley sitting up in bed and looking around the room with a perplexed look on his face. After greeting Stan good morning, his brother had turned a sheepish awkward look on him.

"I know this is kinda crummy considering we're both naked but who are you? Where am I?" Stan said as he pulled the blankets up over his chest in an almost demure gesture.

Ford had panicked for only a moment before taking a deep breath and setting to work. He had sat up and taken Stanley's hands in his. He told Stanley what his name was then told him his own name and that they loved each other very much. The spark of recognition showed up in Stan's eyes then. It only took the fresh smell of morning coffee and a half an hour with one of Mabel's scrapbooks to bring Stanley back fully. It had been terrifying but at least they knew what to do if it should happen again.

The idea that Stan's memories we're in permanent flux like that made Rick's heart sink.

"You always have a plan." Rick half-joked. He felt like a worm in an apple in the face of how deeply both Stan and Ford needed each other. When Ford had come into the room, Ford hadn't been angry. He had been sacred that another major lapse had happened and Stan was lost and would never find his way back home. Rick had seen it in the way they had looked into each other's eyes. It was like they could communicate with the energy that only twins were said to have. Rick took a tentative step in Ford's direction.

"But that for the best. You're willing to stick by Stan through everything. I don't think I'd really ever be able to put up with that. You know me. I'm not exactly a caregiver." He told Ford.

"Me either but I'm learning." Ford said. He smiled softly. "You took very good care of me that week in New York. Oh!" He reached into his hoody pocket and pulled out the small black device. "I believe this is yours." he said after a moment and extended it to Rick.

Rick took hold of the blackberry but didn't move to pull it from Ford's grasp. The pair of them stood connected by a piece of science. Rick could have laughed if it wasn't so stupidly on the nose.

"New York was nice, wasn't it." Rick said it not as a question but in a resigned kind of way. He puffed one short mirthless laugh. "A fluke but a nice one. Just another time I got my hopes up before reality smashed me over the head again."

"What do you mean?" Ford asked in that innocent way. His head tilted ever so slightly like an inquisitive cocker spaniel. Rick couldn't help his sad smile as Ford's naivete. He took back the blackberry and toyed with it a bit before tucking it away into his coat.

"I started falling for you then, stupid. I was in too deep with you to call it off even though I knew it would hurt Stan. So I just told myself that I was seeing a different side to Stan through you all those years. That the things I cared about in you were just different parts of Oregon Stanford. Maybe that's why I assumed you were a parallel Stan and never questioned any of the evidence that seemed obvious now. Some scientist I am."

Rick moved in and placed his arm on Ford's bicep, gently holding on. The sadness in Rick's eyes was there but he seemed to be fighting it when everything he had.

"Then I fucked it all up. Some people aren't meant to be loved, Stanford. I'm a prime example. I should know better but I just barrel back in and don't think about whether it will be different this time. There's nothing I can't do, nothing I can't control. And yet here I am and all I can think to tell you is that I'm just so damn tired of getting my heart broken."

Ford circled one arm around Rick's shoulders and pulled him in. Their lips met and Ford's eyes slid shut and he just felt. Rick's own eyes went wide. This wasn't how it was going to go. His heart ached at how good it felt and how much that hurt. Ford pulled away ever so slightly, their lips barely touching.

"You are loved, Rick. He still loves you also." He whispered before pulling back. He couldn't believe that he'd just done that and now he blushed. "I should - I should get back. I don't want Stanley to worry." When he finally pulled away it was slow and he touched Rick as long as he could. He walked to the door and paused. He looked back at Rick. "Honesty hour. When we were together were you thinking of me or him?"

Rick's brow creased hard. His jaw was hard set and his arms felt numb and cold. None of this was fair. No matter how much Ford or Stan assured Rick he wasn't the problem, that kiss could only taste like pity. The two of them were going to sail off into the sunset and leave Rick behind. That's all there was to it. He couldn't turn to look at Ford.

"When I was with you, I couldn't think of anyone else." He said. He was ashamed of the hoarseness of his voice. There was a long pause and Rick heard the door open.

"Ford?" Rick's voice was stronger now if still mostly lifeless. He didn't hear the door shut and took that as confirmation that Ford was still there, standing in the doorway. "I won't bother you two again. This is going to be the last time we see each other so... treat Stan good, will ya? Tell him... Tell him I'm going to be with my family. Make sure he knows that."

Ford stopped. He wanted nothing more than to go back to Rick and kiss him again. Or shake him. There was nothing he could really do though.

"I'll treat him very well and I'll make sure he knows." He took a deep breath, taking in Rick one more time, memorizing this man as best he could. "Goodbye, Rick." he disappeared through the door with those last words.

Rick counted to ten after he heard the door click shut. He pulled out his portal gun and flicked the button. The portal was barely on before Rick was through it.

The time zone change from Spain to Oregon meant that the bright early afternoon of Barcelona was the still dark early morning hours of Gravity Falls. Rick let himself into the Mystery Shack with his key and found Morty cozy in the made-up bed of the attic.

Morty had had one of the most uncomfortable weekends of his life. It had been awkward, yes but it had probably also been one of the most normal and safe by the standards of Rick's adventures. Morty would eventually come to find that out the hard way. The nice old Mexican lady had fed him and the weird guy, Soos, insisted they have a 'new bros sleepover'. Morty had been through much worse.

Rick shook Morty awake and grumbled for him to get up and that they were going home. A groggy, bewildered Morty asked what had happened, why Rick had seen fit to leave him behind.

"Don't worry about it." Rick said coldly. He drank deeply from his flask and left it uncapped in his hand. Morty seemed to be able to feel Rick's tension coming off him.

"Is everything okay, Rick?" Morty ventured cautiously.

Morty, just..!" Rick started sharply then collected himself. When he spoke again, it was softer and more worn out. "Just lay off, Morty. Alright? Lay off..."

Morty obeyed and followed Rick through the portal to Dimension C-137. Rick left his key on the table.


	4. Chapter 4

The case of the Barcelona vampire had been exhilarating. Several children had gone missing between El Gotic and La Raval, the historic red light districts of Barcelona, and a terrifying apparition of a vampiric woman had been seen around the same time. The Pines brothers had come because Ford had heard about the ghost but they were throwing themselves into the case now that they knew there were kids involved.

The historian had given Ford the information he had been looking for during his visit and it seemed as if the vampire ghost was Enriqeuta Marti.

Enriqeuta had kidnapped, sold and murdered children in her living years in the early nineteen hundreds. When she was brought to justice she had been killed by a mob of other inmates for her crimes. Ford told Stan that this murderess fit the profile and her tragic life would have tied her to this plane of existence.

The first plan of action was to get Enriqeuta to show herself. Ford knew of a summoning spell and he and Stan tried it that night. Their target did not show but Juan Pujalo, Enriqeuta's on again, off again husband did.

Juan Pujalo's ghostly form was kindly and careworn as he spoke. He told the brothers how he had kept Enriqeuta's restless spirit subdued for so long but he had grown weak. He loved his wife but he knew she needed to be stopped to save the children.

This had all been a lie. As the Pines brothers conducted their investigation the rumors of Enriqeuta being a cold-blooded killer didn't add up. She showed signs of mental illness and all accounts of deviant behavior came from Juan. He had been a painter. When Stan and Ford tracked down his art being held by an eccentric collector they found a painting of Enriqeuta. It was dark. The very image of the vampire ghost people had seen, with no mouth to speak about what was real and what was slander against her.

They found Enriqeuta's diary and in it was the proof they needed. Juan had been the kidnapper and murderer and when he thought he would be caught he had shifted the blame to his wife.

The person Enriqeuta had trusted the most had betrayed her and tossed her aside.

Once the truth had been revealed Enriqeuta had reverted to a softer form. A waifish woman crying in her grief. Betrayed and defamed by a husband who forced her to beg on the streets and prostitute herself to support them. Juan had also shown his true form then. The real vampire ghost who had stolen the children.

It wasn't an easy battle but in the end the Twins had prevailed. Juan was trapped inside a silver mirror and Ford promised Enriqeuta to publish her diary so people would know she hadn't hurt any of the children.

Enriqeuta led Stan and Ford to where she had hidden the children from Juan. They were all safe if not scared. The Pines brothers brought the children to the police so they could be reunited with their families then went to exorcize Juan Pujalo from the mirror.

By the time they returned to the Stan-O-War both men were sore and tired. They ate a light dinner and after a quick shower to rinse away the day's sweat and grime in the head's small stand-up shower stall, The pair collapsed into bed. Ford was exhausted and ready for a well-deserved rest. Justice had been served and Ford had a wealth of research to apply to his already vast theoretical knowledge of spirit activity. Ford would emphatically call that a job well done.

As he lay there, he glanced through sleepy eyes as Stan who had been spending the last fifteen minutes or so changing and rechanging his position in bed. Via the pale glow of moonlight through the porthole, Ford could see that Stan had opened his eyes and was staring up at the ceiling. His face was serious and his jaw was clenched in thought. Ford rolled over on his side and touched Stan's shoulder lightly.

"What's wrong, Stanley? Usually, you're asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow." He asked with a sweet kind of calm in his voice. Stan turned over to look at Ford. One of his big hands slid under the pillow. His brow furrowed a bit.

"Just thinkin'. Got a lotta stuff rattlin' around in my head, is all." He slid one hand along the mattress and then over Ford's hand. "Nothin' to worry about, Sixer."

Ford's eyebrow arched in clement persistence. He squeezed Stan's had in his.

"Try me." He offered simply. He knew not to push harder than that but he strived to always give Stan the option. Sighing, Stan brought Ford's hand up to his tank top covered chest. He gave Ford a slightly repentant look.

"You ain't gonna like this but we gotta talk about Rick."

Ford was a bit taken aback by that. His expression said he wasn't angry just surprised. He pushed himself up a little on his elbow.

"Talk about Rick? What is there to talk about? I told you what happened between us." He said. That was not entirely true. Ford had relayed the entire conversation with Stan, honoring Rick's wish in informing Stanley that Rick would return to his family. Stan had been disheartened but accepting of the news. Ford had neglected to mention the sexual tension that had still been apparent between he and Rick and the kiss he had given Rick before they parted ways. In hindsight, it had been impulsive and may have done more harm than good but Ford saw no benefit in mentioning to Stan. He didn't like to keep secrets from Stan but this was mostly in an attempt to save face for his moment of weakness.

"You know we did him wrong, Ford. We treated him like a place holder and a distraction." Stan said as he laid on his back to get a better look at Ford. "He trusted us and we treated him like crap."

Ford sat up and switched on one of the bedside lights bolted to the wall. He sensed this would be an involved conversation and he didn't want to have it straining to see Stan in the dimness. He brought his knees up and rested his tattoed forearms on them.

He remembered the first time he had shown them to Stanley. He had seen them in the Fearamid when they had changed clothes but things had been too hectic to dwell on them. Stan had forgotten about everything after that and Ford hadn't brought it back up. It wasn't until much later that it came back to light. It could have been the fact that it was the evening after the twins had returned home and Stan was emotionally taxed as it was or that things between Stan and Ford had progressed to a physical point they hadn't returned to since high school but when Ford had unthinkingly pulled his sweater off and threw it away, Stan had been overcome. The sight of those thick ropes of black ink shot through with marring scars seemed to bring the reality of what had happened to Ford crashing down on Stan. It had been a rough night with each man shedding their fair share of tears but it was cathartic and reminded Ford what he admired most about Stan. His unapologetic love and protective instinct for those closest to him. He sensed those instincts in Stan now.

"That wasn't our intention." Ford reasoned.

"Well obviously, Poindexter." Stan sat up and slid an arm around Ford's waist. His other hand clasped Ford's closest forearm and held him in a faux cradling hold, shifting slightly so Ford was leaning against him. "It's not like with Juan and Enriqeuta. We didn't mean to use him. We didn't realize we were being selfish till it was too late."

Ford leaned back into Stan's embrace, tilting his head and leaning it against Stan's own. He noted Stan's comparison to their recent case and wondered if Stan had had these thoughts long or if it had only recently occurred to him.

"That certainly doesn't take the sting out of it." Ford conceded softly. "Don't misunderstand, I do regret how things happened, but it can't be undone. We made the decisions we thought best at the time."

"You don't think we can fix it?" Stan nuzzled Ford's temple where the white streak in his gray hair was. "The guy feels used. Unloved. I know that ain't true. I loved him. Hell, I still do." he admitted it softly into Ford's hair. "Ya don't hate me for it, do ya?

Ford turned his head to look at his brother.

"Of course not. I could never hate you. Not really." Ford added that last part with a self-critical air, remembering past mistakes. Ford looked down and took a moment to weigh his words in his head before he released them into the air. Ford shifted to sit facing Stan. "You need to know something you could hate me for then, perhaps. That day in the hotel room... I did kiss Rick again. I could feel the despair just pouring off of him and all I wanted was to take it away from him. I didn't know what else to do."

Ford took both Stan's hands in his own.

"Can you forgive me?"

Stan smirked. "Nothing to forgive, Sixer. Ya did just what I wanted you ta do." He placed a quick peck on Ford's surprised lips. Ford did his best to pick his jaw up off the quilt. He scrutinized Stan a moment before stumbling over his words.

"Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?"

"I know you two brainy hot heads better than you know yourselves." Stan wrapped his arms around Ford's shoulders. He smiled that devious smile he had sometimes. "Ya don't keep people around for nothin'. You wouldn't have spent years seein' the guy if it was only sex. You'd've gotten bored."

Ford knew he was blushing and there was nothing he could do to hide it.

"Still you thought the best course of action was to leave us alone together, knowing we would...?"

Stan tilted his head to the side still looking sly. "I knew ya wouldn't let it go that far. I just needed you both to see that ya actually liked each other."

"What good could that possibly do?" Ford huffed in a semi-embarrassed way. He shuffled closer into Stan's arms, enjoying the comfort they provided even in this moment of confusion. His own arms softly fell on Stan's hips, low where the edge Stan's still full stomach began to roll over his hip bone. Ford slipped his hands beneath the tank top's hem in an unthinking want to feel Stan's skin that had become commonplace with them again. Ford observed the contrast in the roughness of his palms on the soft give of flesh that very rarely saw the light of day.

"I want you to admit you care about him. Maybe it ain't love like I got for him but I know there's something there." Stan said as he held his brother close. His warm brown eyes searched his lover's face but only found obstinance. "Ford. Rick was the first person who told me what we had was ok. That I wasn't wrong. It made me wanna find you even more. If it wasn't for Rick I might have given up a long time ago. He figured out your ciphers and wrote them down for me. On my worst days, I'd read your secret love notes to me in his handwriting and I'd fall in love with you all over again. Ya don't think a guy like that deserves a little love?"

All of that had been news to Ford. Powerful news that spoke of a side of Rick Ford had only occasionally glimpsed. He didn't know if Stan would ever read those notes. He had written them down mostly for himself. While Ford couldn't freely feel his sad nostalgic love for his brother there was something soothing about hiding them in codes only he could understand. Perhaps Ford owed Rick more than he thought. Still, Ford wrestled to find an appropriate answer.

"Rick is... complex, to say the least. For every reprehensible thing he does, every so often there is an altruism to it. Not often but sometimes. Perhaps even a few months ago I'd be loathed to say that I admired him in any way, but with time, I admit that yes. I have grown to appreciate him."

Stan huffed an exasperated sound. "You are thinking too much, knucklehead!" He pressed his forehead to Ford's. "Yes or no. If Rick were in trouble would you go and rescue him?"

"Yes, I would but-" Ford tried not to complicate his answer with an explanation and cut himself off before he could continue.

"If he was hurt would you take care of him?" Stan asked quickly before Ford could get a word in edgewise.

"I would. He's done as much for me..." Ford's gaze wandered downward. Stan tilted his head to recapture Ford's gaze.

"When he's not being an ass, do you enjoy being around him? Did he make you laugh? Were you happy to see him when he showed up?"

That was a more complicated answer. All of those things were true on a certain level, although Ford wanted to chalk that up to their arduous agreement. But the thought of New Year's Eve stuck in his heart.

"I...often looked forward to it." Ford admitted.

"How would you feel if he died?" Stan asked simply. "No lying. I'll know."

"...It would devastate me." Ford had expressed his concerns over Rick's hypothetical death before, to Rick himself, but he had never been comfortable saying what a truly deep impact it would have on him. Stan's open attitude made him feel safe to speak it fully now. Stan nuzzled Ford's face.

"Yeah. Me too. Almost as much as it would if I lost you again." he cupped the side of Ford's face and kissed him softly. Ford's eyes fluttered closed and he returned the kiss. He pulled away and after a prolonged moment of just looking at Stan with a devotion that was naked and open, he chuckled and shook his head, tossing his grey locks softly.

"Alright. You've seen through me like always. I do still have feelings for Rick. I appreciate you understanding that. But I still don't see what's to be done about it. We've chosen each other like we always knew we would and yes, we did both do our part to hurt him, but I'm at a loss for anything we can do to make it better. Nothing that won't seem callous at least." Ford said. He was admittedly not the most aware when it came to the feelings of others and now was no exception. Stanley smirked again.

"Rule one to a good con is knowing what the plan is before you start. Now you might not like the idea at first but I'm gonna let you make the final decision. I already know what I want." he kissed Ford's cheek. "What I need from you is a way to get a hold of Rick again."

Ford was wary. His brother always had a tendency of getting them into trouble once he started talking about his cons and plans. Although if Ford was honest, the cryptic proposal had his interest piqued.

"You're planning something. Something impertinent. Aren't you?" Ford asked in a sportive, sly voice.

"What you said, it sure is." Stan chuckled. He left one arm around Ford's shoulders as he leaned back against the wall. "The second rule is always know the guy who can get the job done. So can ya get him to come back here, Sixer?"

Ford's sense of adventure was reaching out to him in a way he hadn't known since before his return to his home dimension and despite himself, Ford found that he desperately wanted to answer its call. Ford considered his options then satisfied with the conclusion he had reached, looked at Stan over his glasses with an impish pride.

"If there is anything I know how to do, it's how to call Rick to me. Now let me in on your plan, Stanley."

 

  
Morty was taking the garbage out to the curb via the garage when the portal sprung to life on the curb and Ford stepped out. He had pulled the hood of his sweater up and had even dug out his old goggles, a precaution for interdimensional travel and Ford's habit after so many years of it. He surveyed the suburban landscape a moment before his eyes fell upon Morty. He approached the boy and looked down at him quizzically. Morty saw himself reflected in the mirrored finish of the goggles.

"I'm looking for Rick Sanchez." Ford said in a calm business-like tone. Morty's brow crinkled softly and he stood stiffly with the garbage bag still in his hand. He looked left and right as if plotting routes of escape a moment before he spoke.

"I'm his grandson. He, uh, he can't come out right now. He's... busy. Can you come back later?"

Ford tilted his head, scrutinizing Morty a moment, for what Morty didn't know. Perhaps sensing the boy's apprehension, Ford pulled his goggles down around his neck and pushed his hood back. To Morty, the man looked like he could be a substitute teacher at his school except that he radiated a mysterious, otherworldly intrigue. Morty hadn't been on many outings with Rick, but he had very quickly learned to pick out people who were at home traveling the multiverse. They carried themselves a certain way. Morty saw that baring in this man.

"No, that won't be necessary. I just had to give him something." Ford tutted. He hesitated then pulled an envelope from his pocket. He extended it in Morty's direction. "Could you make sure your grandfather gets this?"

"Oh, uh...ok." Morty said lamely. He put the garbage bag into the bin but didn't take his eyes off the man who seemed to be thinking very hard about something. He wiped his hands on his jeans and took the letter.

"Now, I need you to make sure that this gets to Rick as soon as possible. It's of the utmost importance. Can you do that for me, young man?" He asked. It was a serious question and Morty did his best to answer succinctly under the older man's cold if cordial scrutiny.

"Yeah. Sure I can." He said. Morty looked down at the envelope then back up at Ford. "Excuse me... But are you... my grandpa Rick's boyfriend?"

Any aura of mystique Ford was emitting all but instantly fell away and Ford made a face that made him look like a spider had just crawled up his pant leg. His face reddened and he blinked a few times as if his face had been set into overload by that comment and he sputtered the smallest bit as he tried to find that answer.

"Uh, N-no. Well, yes. Perhaps... in a sense?" Ford stammered then pushed on "Just give him the note. He'll- uhh, he'll know what it means."

The man cleared his throat again then brought his arm up to check a device on his wrist. Morty recognized the dayglow green trickle of what could have been portal fluid in the device's square face. It was nearly empty. Ford twisted a wheel on the bottom and pressed a small button. Another portal swirled open and Ford pulled up his goggles and hood quickly.

"Thank you. I do appreciate this." Ford said with a sedate air that told Morty he was trying to salvage what gravitas he had been aiming to exude on his entrance. He stepped through the portal and was gone.

Morty turned the envelope over to examine it but it was blank. He worried that it could be filled with space anthrax or something but, having no way to know, turned to return back to the house. He went straight to Rick's room and cracked open the door, sticking his head in without knocking. The room was dark and smelled stuffy and unpleasant. Rick lay on his cot in an undignified heap. He was in nothing but his underwear. Morty was sure it was the same pair he had been wearing all week.

Rick had brought them back home and had wordlessly gone to his room, shutting the door behind him. He proceeded to just stay there, sullenly but firmly declining any invitations from the Smiths to come out for meals or to watch TV. Morty covered for Rick, explaining to his rather concerned parents that the reason he had been gone for almost two days was that Rick has brought them on a camping trip and it had been a great time and he and Rick had really bonded. He explained that Rick had caught Lyme disease and would be fine but everybody should let them rest. When Morty relayed that to Rick, he only gave a dead chuckle and without turning to face Morty said "Sneaky. I'm rubbing off on you. Get out."

Morty figured Rick would finally emerge from his room once his flask and any other lingering bottles he had stashed away were empty. That was a false hope. Rick has supplied Summer with a masterful fake ID he had made for just such an occasion and he correctly guessed that Summer would be only too happy to oblige if, in the process, she could score a few six packs and be a hit with her friends that night.

Morty had tried to ask Rick what happened a few times but Rick had always refused to engage him, at first lifelessly telling Morty to drop it. Then after Morty had meekly pressed the issue and suggested that Rick might really need to talk about it, Rick rolled over and snapped at Morty, assuring him in no simple terms that he had no clue what the hell Rick needed and to give it a rest. Morty didn't try again. He just brought Rick food, which only sometimes showed signs of being picked at and waited for things to come to a head. Morty figured this turn of events was as good a catalyst as any.

"Rick?" Morty called, stepping into the room. Rick didn't respond but shifted on his cot. Morty left the door cracked as a source of light. He repeated himself a little more firmly. "Rick. Hey, Rick. Something came for you."

Rick grumbled something incoherent. Morty's face screwed up in an irritated type of consternation. He closed the door and flicked on the light. Rick pulled his blanket over his head and uttered a gravelly annoyed sound. Morty crossed the room and tugged on the blanket. Rick held it over his head.

"Come on, Rick. Get up." Morty tried to keep the exasperation out of his voice but the crack to his lilt didn't help. Morty braced himself in case the news might set Rick off. "It's from your boyfriend. He says it's important."

Rick rolled over under the blanket and lifted the hem to peak out at Morty with a wild look in his one visible eye. Morty bent at the waist almost turning his head upside down to look back.

"Your boyfriend." He repeated cautiously. "The guy with the glasses and the sideburns, right?"

Morty held up the envelope so Rick could see it.

"He told me to give this to yo-" Morty explained but he gave a little yelp when Rick's arm shot out like a cobra from its nest and snatched the envelope from the boy. Rick sat up, his blanket pooling all around him and tore it open. He pulled out the note inside and scanned it. Morty watched his grandfather's expression run a strange sequence from confusion to a flash of anger that was quickly tamped down by indifference and then the despondency and defeat that had become all too familiar over the course of that week.

Rick lay back in bed, staring up at the ceiling, the note dangling from his grasp over the side of the cot. Morty saw a few lines of letters that spelled nothing but nonsense written in an intelligent cursive hand. The only things Morty could make out were a series of numbers that could have been coordinates and a time: ten o'clock pm.

"What does he think he's doing to me?" Rick asked the ceiling. He slung his arm over his eyes.

"Is it bad?" Morty asked. Rick sighed, exasperated either by the situation or by Morty asking about it.

"Yeah, Morty, it's pretty bad." Rick answered in what Morty recognized as his condescending voice. He moved his arm away to fix Morty with a scowl. "When you get your heart ripped out of your chest like Temple of Doom, then just when you decide what color curtains would best offset your brain matter when you spray it all over the living room, when you get a letter from your ex inviting you over for tea, yeah, Morty. That's when I say it's bad."

A tea party was a bit hyperbolic. The note had been straight to the point and without specifics. There had been precise longitude and latitude then below that in a well-learned cipher Rick had seen many times before, there was a date and time. Beneath all of that was no explanation of what Ford wanted, just the words 'Please come' in his unmistakable handwriting. It wasn't signed. It didn't need to be.

"Jeez, Rick. Were you actually going to-?" Morty shifted uncomfortably.

"Blow my brains out?" Rick scoffed. Rick stared at the ceiling again. "Save your step back from the ledge talk, Morty. I'm not that boring."

Rick had entertained the idea of suicide. A gun would have been far too pedestrian but Rick did have components in his lab that would make something quick and efficient. Although that would have taken time and in the end it was as just too much work. Rick had decided he would just play the lottery with the booze and if his ever-resilient liver pulled through this one, the bastard, Rick would eventually drag himself out of bed and find some kind of passable distraction. He talked a big game but inside, and not very deep down at that, Rick knew what an ineffectual waste he was and that he was very capable of taking his pity party on the road and cramming it way down into the bottomless pit of heart. His self-loathing was permanent but his ability to wallow in it was temporary.

Rick made a mental note for next time he was stupid enough to get his heart broken to just be prepared. Have something he could assemble in thirty seconds before he could think himself out of it. Make it the instant microwave dinner of suicides. That was all riding on the assumption that Rick would ever let himself anywhere near feeling for another being like that again, which he wouldn't. People were shit and would disappoint you. Simple as that. Rick lifted the note again and looked up at it. He tossed it aside and it fluttered to the floor.

"Doesn't matter. Not like I'll ever show my face on that boat again." He growled and returned his forearm to the place where it was shading his eyes from the light.

"But. Maybe... Maybe he really wants to see you. Your boyfriend, I mean." Morty said carefully. Rick's lip curled in disgust.

"Ugh. Nope. Pass." He said in a staccato bark.

"I'm serious. What if he wants to talk about what happened?" Morty offered. He had no clue what had happened but based on Rick's demeanor, he could take a guess it hadn't been good.

"There's nothing to talk about. I'm not wanted or needed there." Rick waved Morty away and rolled over on his side, away from the boy. Morty was getting kind of sick of Rick's attitude. It took a lot to make Morty angry, at least angry enough to do something about it and the last week (and if Morty really thought about it the last few months) of Rick's behavior had been piling up on him.

"He wouldn't have come here and brought you that letter if he like, I don't know, didn't want to do something about you two? Maybe he needs to clear the air or say he's sorry." Morty reasoned. He reached out and tried to turn Rick over but Rick roughly pulled his arm away.

"You don't get it, Morty. I'd say you'll understand when your older but that's a lie. I still don't understand."

Morty pulled Rick's shoulder again and Rick swatted at him. The pair each tried to each get their way, Morty wanting Rick to face him and attempt a discussion and Rick wanting to curl himself in a ball and be left to stew and it degraded into ineffectual tussling and childish little slaps.

"You can't - you can't just lie in here and waste away!" Morty whined.

"I can and I will." Rick sneered back stubbornly. "Now just leave me alone!"

Morty seemed to have finally reached his boiling point. He gave a Rick a last good shove and stepped away.

"No! That's bullshit, Rick!" He said sharply. Rick did turn at Morty's outburst. He had never heard the kid say boo before. Not to anyone in his family and certainly not to him. He sat up and eyed the boy with a mild kind of disbelief. Morty picked up the letter and examined it. He still couldn't make heads or tails of it. He opted to shove it into Rick's hands and barrel onward.

"You know, you know what? If I were laying in bed cause I got dumped, you wouldn't wait five minutes before calling me out on it!"  
Morty gave a pause just long enough to make it feel rehearsed. Like he had been wanting to say it for a while but hadn't quite made it much further in the plan for his speech. "So you need to get up and try and work this out instead of pouting like a baby! Otherwise, you're just going to tear yourself apart and they'll be no getting over this!"

Morty's body was a knot of tension, all balled fists and hunched up shoulders. Rick studied the kid and the wrinkles in his forehead and around his tired, red-ringed eyes creased. Morty didn't falter under Rick's gaze. He stood straight and rigid like a tombstone, arms clamped to his sides. The floodgates were open now and Morty was riding the wave.

"You don't want to cause you're scared or angry or- or bored with it or something, I don't know! But we all have to do things we don't want to do. That's called being an adult, Rick. But I'm just a kid, what do, what do I know, huh?" Morty's voice cracked. He threw his hands up in frustration. "You don't hafta listen to me. Drink yourself to death or whatever. It's not like you had a good life. Everyone's life is meaningless and terrible. You tell me that all the time but you know what? It's yours and you get to decide what you want to do with it. So either do something or don't, but stop feeling sorry for yourself! Just make a damn choice!"

Morty seemed to deflate as if he had run out of steam.

"And you need to take a shower. You smell horrible." He added before winding down entirely. He looked at Rick, waiting for him to explode. Rick could see that the boy was physically cringing.

Rick was planning on setting the record straight. That he had no desire to get over anything and if it really was Ford that had sent this letter, he had won and only wanted to somehow rub it in Rick's face in person again. But there was something so thought-provoking in how, after all of the dangerous and unethical things he had involved Morty in the first few months of their knowing each other, it was Rick's self-destruction that had been the last straw.

Up until now, Rick had always seen Morty a pushover. It was the first time Morty had told him no and Rick should've been agitated by Morty's outburst. He was not a man to be defied or told what to do, especially when he was in a mood. But Morty had not only stuck his head into the lion's cage; he had popped the grumpy old lion in the nose and told it to stop yowling. Rick welcomed such an improvement in Morty's bravery, despite his own ego. Rick would be lying if he said he didn't appreciate seeing it.

The words wouldn't have hurt if they were coming from anyone else. Rick didn't strive to protect Morty's mostly rosy outlook. In fact, there were days Rick hoped to bring it crashing down to reality. That was the nature of things. But for some reason, Rick didn't want to be the cause of any grief on the boy's part. It wasn't like the kid had a lot going for him. Feckless family and an unsupportive society that would rate Morty's worth on what grades he got and who he did or didn't date. For God's sake, Rick was the kid's only friend. Rick wanted more for him. Rick didn't like thinking about but it was there and like his lingering feelings for both Stan and Ford, could only be pushed away for so long. Rick had done wrong by someone who just as alone as he was. That's what had hurt.

Rick looked at the paper again. The date of the meeting was tomorrow night. Rick stood and Morty stared up at his grandfather, still prepared to be chewed out. Rick looked down at the boy and Morty could see an emotion he couldn't recognize when it was on Rick's face.

"Relax, Morty. Your mascara's running." Rick didn't say it until he was brushing past Morty and he couldn't see Rick's expression but Rick put his hand on Morty's shoulder and he squeezed it gently. Before Morty could do anything about it, it was gone. Rick quickly grabbed a few pieces of clothing from his still mostly unpacked boxes on the opposite wall and left the room. Morty stood there a moment, feeling shocked that Rick hadn't torn him a new one then stepped out himself. Rick moved on long legs even at his calm unperturbed pace and when Morty poked his head around the corner he was in time to see Rick padding up the stairs and out of sight. A minute later he heard the hiss of the shower and the closing of the bathroom door. Morty did not allow himself a smile but he felt the stress in his body lessen. Rick was unpredictable but he had a feeling if there was such a thing as turning a corner with Rick, Morty was cautiously optimistic that he might have just done that.


	5. Chapter 5

The green glow of the portal lit up the night out on the open sea. Rick stepped out and haughtily smoothed the lapels of his lab coat. Rick refused to look bad in front of his two exes. He was not vain but he was prideful enough to hope he could affect a look that said the last week hadn't been hell on him. He was wary of what Ford must have had planned so he was admittedly a bit on edge. He had no clue what to expect. What he wasn't expecting was to see Stan waiting for him.

Stan had been standing patiently on the deck, watching the stars and picking out constellations. It made him think of the last night of his and Rick's three-month love affair. How scared he'd been at the prospect of sitting out on the roof and how knowing Rick was there made it not so scary in the end.

He didn't look right away when the green glow spread over the ship's deck behind him. He waited until it had disappeared and he heard footsteps. Turning as casually as he could, Stan smiled at Rick.

Wanting to look nice, Stan had gone to a barber in port to tame his sailor's beard and hair. He looked fresh and clean. He wore his Mr. Mystery suit but with no tie. The top few buttons were undone to show off his chain and some chest hair.

"Hey, Lover Boy. Wasn't sure you were coming but I'm sure glad ya did."

It was startling and odd to see Stan now how he always pictured him in his mind, clean shaven and in the clean lines of his dark suit. He had thought the only thing he was going to get was Ford waiting to squash his heart underfoot. This was a pleasant surprise but Rick was no less confused.

"Don't know why I bothered showing up. Glutton for punishment I guess..." He sneered. It was one of Rick's many defense mechanisms and it came almost on automatic pilot. Stan snorted a little laugh.

"Can't say that ain't true but you'll be glad you came. I promise." He started towards the door to the lower levels of the ship. "Come on. Let's talk below deck. It's getting chilly out and us old men don't need to catch cold." He didn't look back. Either Rick would follow or he wouldn't.

"Hey, wait a minute." Rick said, stepping into the above deck wheelhouse. It had been converted into some kind of sparingly supplied makeshift research room and lab with cabinets that folded open to make work table space with various books and engineering equipment strapped inside. It was the kind of room that had Stanford's fingerprints all over it. Straight ahead was a door identical to the one Rick had just passed through to allow access to the rear deck and to one side of the floor was a set of stairs built in at a steep grade, leading below deck. Stan was already headed down.

"What's going on, Stan?" Rick asked suspiciously. He was waiting for Ford to make an appearance and it occurred to him that maybe Ford had nothing to do with this. Yes, the message had been in code but Stan had Ford's books for years. And if Rick had mistaken one twin for another who was to say he hadn't done it again, based on Morty's admittedly vague description. Who was to say Ford wasn't actually dead this time, fallen into the sea or murdered in the midst of one of his own adventures? What if Stan was calling Rick back to take his place again? Rick felt like a silver medal. He banished his paranoia out of his head and away into the darkness of the night.

Stan looked back at Rick as he was halfway down the stairs.

"Oh come on. Where's your sense of adventure? 'sides if I tell you now it'll ruin the surprise." He started back down the stairs.

"Well, this is it. Third act twist. You've been playing the long con this whole time. You've skinned your brother and I'm about to go down there to see your Buffalo Bill Stanford suit." Rick joked as he moved over to the steps He planted his fists on his hips and tried to look down around Stan. Stan rolled his eyes. His bulky form blocked Rick's view.

"I've shaved your face, Rick. Multiple times. It's been thirty years. You'd think I'd earn a little trust after that time." He turned back around with a little smirk on his face. "I'd never skin Ford. It would be a mess to clean up and I'd basically have to burn the boat. What a pain! Like being back in Columbia." Stan chuckled as he went down.

"Still can't take a joke, I see." Rick replied. He followed Stan down the steps and looked around at his surroundings.

It was cramped but cozy. In front of him, Rick saw a booth with a table across from a countertop kitchen with a stove, sink and mini refrigerator. It formed a cramped aisle that led to a narrow door at the ship's rear, into what Rick presumed to be the bedroom. Rick looked over his shoulder. Beyond the sturdy stairs was the remaining third of the ship's below deck real estate. Rick saw a small reading nook with a cozy cushion and a few throw pillows situated beneath one if the ship's starboard portholes. More books, these more geared for recreation (Rick didn't need to see the Robert Heinlein and Arthur C. Clark and the assortment of Star Trek and Star Wars extended universe novels to know that was Ford's addition to the space) were stacked in wall mounted bookcases and a modest flat screen TV was affixed to the opposite wall. Thick cables and wires ran up from the back and up through the ceiling where Rick presumed it had been hooked up to one on the satellites on the roof. Every inch of wall space was well used for space-saving storage and a larger door towards the bow of the ship, by process of elimination, Rick surmised must have been a supply hold. A wooden sign on the door, painted in purposefully scuffed and weathered navy paint warned the reader that "This ship is skippered by a MEAN OLD BASTARD" in a nod to both Stan's sense of humor and lack of taste. Rick still saw Ford nowhere in sight.

"Ford, our visitor is here." Stan called as he slid the door to the bedroom into the wall. There sat Ford. He looked like a nervous college professor. He wore brown slacks and a brownish green sports coat with suede patches over the elbows. Under the coat was an olive green sweater vest with a bright blue tie peaking out and a white dress shirt. For all of his brother's rogueish playfulness when it came to dressing up, Ford was collected and polished. He stood from his seat and nervously buttoned the top button of his coat.

"Greetings." He said. Ford was blushing slightly. Rick heard himself swallow. He had never seen Ford looking so cleaned up. It was always trench coats and hoods. Dour black garments never really clean from life on the run. Ford looked refined and somehow both delicate and terribly strong. His outside finally matched the polished enlightened personality Rick had come to know lay underneath the muddy boots and tousled hair. Rick was a little taken by the sight and by the way Ford's cheeks burned a bit brighter upon locking eyes with him, Rick thought Ford might've known that too.

There was something in the way Stan had opened the door, unveiling Ford like the lucky bachelor on Mystery Date that has added to the effect. The rush of the door had wafted a gust of dark musky scent and Rick recognized it at once. Ford was wearing Stan's cologne, the one Rick liked the best and always wore for Slug Day. Rick had a sneaking suspicion that that had been Stan's suggestion. Perhaps they were both wearing it and Rick was only noticing it now. Rick's heart knocked on his chest like a police officer at the front door during a raid.

"You...Wow, you look..." Rick trailed off stupidly. He looked to Stan. "Both of you..."

Stan shoved his big hands into his pants pockets and smiled. "I think we get what you're trying to say, Rick." he chuckled a bit. "Ford and I had a talk. We did you wrong. We wanna make it right."

Rick didn't quite like the attention being turned on him in this puzzling situation. He had thought... well, Rick didn't know what he thought would come of tonight but he didn't expect to see both of his exes dressed to the nines and telling Rick they had owed him an apology. Rick's dry humor came out in an attempt to shield him from any serious conversation.

"Ok boys. Is this my intervention? Did you write letters? Cause I'm not drunk enough for that..."

"We ain't here to work miracles." Stan laughed hard. "We thought we'd see if you'd be willing to try something with us." he gave Rick a fiery look and Ford blushed harder. Stan stepped a little closer to Rick in the already small space.

"Stay the night with us, Rick."

Rick was totally lost. Perhaps if not lost, incredulous. His heart picked up speed. He looked at Stan and tried to keep his jaw from dropping open.

"Stay. The night." Rick repeated. He looked over Stan's shoulder to Ford for confirmation. "Here?"

Rick took Stan by the sleeve. Stan didn't know if it was to keep Stan where he was or to steady himself.

"We aren't talking just staying. That's a euphemism, right? You're offering-?"

Ford huffed a little annoyed sound before stepping around Stan. "Rick. We are all adults. You have an idea of what we're offering." The former bravado seemed to slip away when Ford noticed his new proximity to Rick. He licked his lips nervously as he looked up at the other man. "We are offering a.... Well, a test run I suppose. We both care for you and feel that you could belong... With us. We would try it tonight and see how we all felt in the morning." Ford's blush had spread over his face. He looked back at Stan. "That's what we're offering, isn't it Stanley?" He asked his twin for back up.

"Sure is." Stan confirmed with a sweet smile directed at Rick. Rick did lean back against the stairs now, half sitting on a step. He ran a hand through his wild hair. It was a lot to take in.

"But...why?" Rick asked a bit pointedly. What good did inviting Rick into bed with the two of them pose? They had chosen each other and now they actually wanted Rick too? Rick was a heartless unlovable wretch, especially in the sight of these two people so deeply tied to each other. Rick was more likely to tear the two of them apart with his mere presence. He had spent the better half of thirty years trying to do just that, whether he realized it or not. What could Stan and Ford, who had everything they ever wanted in each other, gain from someone like Rick, who had nothing to offer them? The answer was elusive and it nagged at Rick's mind.

"Because together we're enough for you. Like I told you in that hotel, we couldn't keep you happy by ourselves." Stan said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"We won't force you to do anything you don't want to do, of course." Ford added. "If you just want to talk it over we can discuss it in depth."

Stan rolled his eyes. "Jeez, ya make it sound like a job interview, Poindexter."

Ford shot Stanley a look. "Don't treat this lightly, Stan. It's his decision to make. We both want him but Rick has to choose how we proceed."

It wasn't as if this would be Rick's first threesome. Not by a long shot. That wasn't what concerned Rick. What concerned him was that Ford and Stan had gone to all this effort for Rick. Rick pushed himself up to stand and closed the gap between he and Ford to only a step. He looked at the floor and smiled wryly. Ford was wearing smartly polished wingtips.

"The code was stupid easy, but hey, uh, nice touch." Rick mentioned, not knowing what to say. Stan hadn't understood why the message had to be in code until Ford explained it as delicately as possible. Stan was accepting of the answer but still informed Ford that he and Rick were total eggheads.

"It wasn't meant to be hard. We just wanted you to come." Ford explained with a soft smile. Stan chuckled behind him and he turned to give his twin a look but he was still smiling. "Stanley, don't be juvenile."

Rick looked at Stan who was leaning against the table, one ankle crossed over the other. "And I take it you ran logistics on this little caper? You always had a good eye for a hustle."

Stan unfolded his arms from over his chest. One hand came to rest on the table top he was leaning his hip against. His stance was still roguish. "Ain't no hustle, sweetheart. A hustle is when you try to trick someone into givin you what you want. You got all the power here, babe."

Both men were watching Rick with a comfortable responsiveness. It made Rick feel an out of character kind of embarrassment.

"Am I really worth all that? I'm trouble. I surprised you two weren't happy to be rid of me." He added quietly. The pines brothers looked at Rick with matching looks of surprise.

"Have you not heard anything we've said to you, dumb ass?" Stan said as he straightened himself out. "We want you. You ain't trouble but if you were, it's the kind of trouble we like."

Ford was leaning his back against the counter. He sighed but it wasn't heavy with emotion. "You don't listen, Rick. I've told you that before."

Stepping forward, Stan stood beside his twin. With Ford turned sideways Stan could fit in the small walkway with him but just barely. For years Rick had seen them separately and now seeing them together was a bit mind-blowing. Add in the warm glow from the bedroom beyond them and it was a truly surreal picture.

"Look, Lover Boy, I don't know how to make it any clearer. We talked it over and we know we were wrong. There's a place for you here but only if you want it. We ain't gonna force ya. We know flatterin' you ain't gonna work. We want you and I think just getting you here shows how good me and Ford would be for you together."

Ford gave Rick a cautious look but it was open and hopeful while Stan was full of his usual tough-guy bluster. Rick looked at the two men searchingly. It was like he had ceased to see them as Stan and Ford and instead, he was able to see them as the Pines brothers. They were a set. It felt like Rick had spent years reading two stories, not realizing they were the beginning and end of the same one. Now he saw how the ripped pages fit together so perfectly.

"You two spoil me. That's your first mistake." Rick smiled wanly. Stan recognized the challenge in Rick's eyes, something he had often favored Stan with since its initial appearance in Palmer's Peak. To Ford, it was the invitation to push boundaries he would never have tried without Rick. Both men recognized the expression had softened and become more tempered, not with age but perhaps with new perspective. Stan swaggered over to Rick and slid an arm around the tall man's waist.

"Does that mean you're gonna stay? Cause if so you better be ready to get spoiled, Debbie."

Ford laughed.

"Oh my gosh. That's where Debbie came from?" the look on Ford's face was almost adoring as he looked at the two men. "What am I going to do with you two?"

Rick couldn't help himself. He put an arm Stan's shoulders and with his free hand reached out to gently brush the edge of the lapel of Ford's jacket between his fingers and thumb.

"I can think of a few things, Rambo..." He teased. Both he and Stan broke out into laughter.

"Oh, I'm using that one." Stan joked as he smiled at his brother. Ford rolled his eyes and slid his hand into Rick's.

"You still haven't given us an answer on whether you plan to allow us a second chance."

"Oh, you want me to say it? Usually that's the other way around with us, huh Stanford?" Rick was feeling back to himself now and thus emboldened. The blush that had started to fade on Ford's face had come back with a vengeance.

"While true, consent is very important and I don't want there to be any misunderstandings tonight."

"Just tell him what he wants to hear, Rick, or we're never gonna get this show on the road." Stan said rolling his eyes and nuzzling the side of Rick's neck while giving his brother a lustful look. Rick leaned into the touch and chuckled in appreciation. He decided that here alone in the middle of the ocean no one could catch him being overly affectionate. Rick pulled Ford in and pressed his forehead to Ford's own.

"I want to show Stan what New Year's Eve was like." He told Ford warmly. He turned his head and followed suit with Stanley. His fingers curled into the recently freshened hairline at the nape of Stan's neck. "And I want to show Ford what Slug Day was like..."

Stan's breath caught in his throat as Rick's fingers slid into his hairline. He tilted his head up and captured Rick's lips with his. A soft groan escaped him as their lips met. Ford leaned closer to Rick and smiled as he watched the two men. He had been worried he'd feel jealous but that was the least of his feelings.

"I don't know what Slug Day is but if that's how it starts I do believe I'll enjoy it." he chuckled. Rick cracked an eye and broke the kiss. He gave Ford a devilish smile, one of the tried and true smirks from his repertoire.

"Come here, beautiful. It's rude to stare." He said in a deep honeyed tone. He gently tugged on Ford's wrist and pulled him in for a kiss. Rick's hand still worked in Stan's hair, petting his way through the tight locks and twisting them lightly in his fingertips. Ford kissed back with languid strokes of his tongue against Rick's. He freed his hand from Rick's grip and brought it up to cradle the other man's face. Rick's now free arm slid around his waist. Stan kissed Rick's throat as his two lovers kissed.

"Mmm... That's fucking hot." Stan rumbled as he pressed himself closer to Rick. He felt Ford's hand reach out blindly for his and Stan twined their fingers together. "So we're just gonna have a nice little chat now, right? Or are we headed to the bedroom cause I don't think we have enough space in the galley."

Rick laughed into Ford's mouth a moment as Stan's words registered. He squeezed both men to his sides in with an air of comradery.

"I think we are a bit past the talking stage here, Stanley." Rick purred. Stan's full name didn't feel the least bit awkward on Rick's tongue. The twins shared a look. It was mischievous and would have sent a lesser man than Rick running. They kissed each other quickly before grabbing the edges of Rick's lab coat and pulling him back towards the bedroom. They traded off kissing Rick and each other as they went. Stan chuckled as he shut the door behind them and Ford kissed Rick as he slid off the lab coat.

Rick barked a sound of surprise as both men all by threw him forward. Rick let himself be kissed, only letting his eyes flutter half closed to keep a track on which brother was kissing him. He let his lab coat fall to the floor before beginning his work on Ford's garments. He opened the jacket and pushed it off his arms. Ford pulled the sweater vest off over his head and Rick took the opportunity to kiss Stan as he joined them. With the sweater vest gone, Rick continued unwrapping Ford from his clothes like a birthday present. He undid the tie and let it hang over Ford's shoulders as he went to work on the shirt buttons. One of Ford's hands found its way under Rick's shirt. The other went over to Stan's coat and he gave it a plaintive tug.

"Try to keep up, Stanley. You haven't taken anything off yet." He teased. Rick had achieved his goal of unbuttoning and untucking Ford's shirt but hadn't quite gotten the piece of clothing off the six-fingered man's shoulders. When Rick had made the attempt Ford had shifted slightly so that the shirt stayed on and distracted Rick with a kiss.

"Maybe I'm enjoying the show, Sixer." Stan laughed before moving to stand behind Ford. He rested his chin on his brother's shoulder and smirked at Rick. "Besides I saw that move. He's getting shy cause I lost weight and he found it." Stan explained as he slid his hands under the edges of Ford's shirt and started to peak it away.

"Stanley!" Ford admonished as his cheeks burned. It did nothing to deter the conman.

"No matter what I do, no matter what I say, the knucklehead won't believe me when I tell him he looks sexy." Stan licked his lips as he shifted the shirt the rest of the way off a blisteringly blushing Ford. "Maybe he'll listen to you, Lover Boy. What do you think?" Stan ran his big hands over Ford's softly furred chest and the softened stomach that didn't have the definition it once had before resting on what could've been the beginning of love handles.

Rick had known that body for a long time, back when Ford's body fat percentage was easily in the single digits. It was brought on by a life of danger and poverty and obsession. He had never had been as skinny as Rick, who was a natural ectomorph, but there had been some encounters between them when Ford had been on the run from particularly voracious bounty hunter or on the trail of a new lead in his quest for the Nightmare Realm where Rick thought Ford's hard packed muscles were the only thing keeping him from going to pieces.

Now while Ford's stomach was still flat, the shape of his abs had become lighter. Rick thought that if he pinched Ford's hip he might be able to get a small amount of flesh between his fingers. For any average person in sixties, Ford's body was still an end goal. Rick knew Ford's nature for never being satisfied and was both unsurprised and perturbed by Ford's embarrassment.

"You still look like Steve frickin' Reeves there, Rambo. You over think everything, you know." Rick twined his arms around Ford's waist and pressed his clothed chest to Ford's bare one. Rick could feel Stan's hands trapped between their bodies. Rick squeezed Ford around his middle, feeling the newly added softness.

"This is what was missing. A little give. You're the whole damn package now, Stanford." Rick said in a semi-conspiratorial way as if he was letting Ford in on a secret. This close up and without the ire that had distracted their earlier encounters, Rick could see now that Ford's hollow cheekbones had filled out a bit too. It made his face look alive. Rick kissed those cheeks, starting at one and moving across Ford's jawline and chin to reach the other. All the while his fingers skated up Ford's sides, enjoying the warmth and silken feel of Ford's flesh. He reached beyond and into Stan's open coat, brushing the man's stomach through his dress shirt.

"Every bit of you is absolutely perfect. Don't you try and hide from me again." Rick breathed in Ford's ear. He looked at Stan now who was just over Ford's shoulder and well within reach of Rick's lips. "You've been taking care of him, haven't you Stan? That's what he's always needed. Good job."

Rick kissed Stan as a playful little reward, though his fingers curled into Ford's scalp, caressing and massaging. His fingers slid over an old scar, like a chasm long ago bridged along the side of Ford's head. It sent shivers through Rick that were just as quickly replaced by a warming relief that Ford was real and living in his hands. That Rick had the privilege to touch that scar again.

If it hadn't been for the two men holding him Ford was pretty sure he'd be a puddle on the floor. Those two deep voices he knew so well we're going straight to his libido

"So that's where the dominant stuff came from." Stan chuckled between kisses. His hands roamed over Ford's stomach and chest. "Ain't my thing but I can see where you'd find it sexy, Sixer. I like giving the orders myself." He winked at Rick with a little knowing smile. Ford groaned between the two men.

"Will you two please take your clothes off? You're driving me mad." His words came in a breathy needy way as he squirmed between the two bodies holding him.

"Guy's got a point. We're lagging a bit behind, huh?" Rick said to Stan. He set the example by stepping back enough to cross his arms and peel his shirt up and off. He tossed it away and his bare stomach brushed Ford's own as he reached past him to pull Stan over by the cuff. His other hand tangled into Ford's six fingers. He took the two steps back to sit at the edge of the bed. Pulling both men to stand by him, he nestled Ford's hand onto the side of his neck for safekeeping and toed his shoes off before positioning Stan between his open legs and setting to work on his shirt buttons. Rick occasionally looked away from his work to kiss Ford's chest and brush the man's nipple with his lips.

Ford slid his fingers over the back of Stan's neck and pulled him closer and kissed him with slow deep open mouth kisses, sighing against Stan's lips every time Rick passed over one of his nipples or over the edge of a particularly sensitive scar. One of Stan's hands held Ford steady while the other carded through Rick's wild hair. He growled his approval as Rick reached the last button. He shrugged off the coat and shirt before pulling away from Ford. "So what do you think, Lover Boy? Ship life look good on me?"

To say Stan's body had improved wasn't accurate. Rick liked Stan's body. Always had, no matter how much Stan semi humorously beat himself up about it over the years. And Stan's arms and shoulders have always been pretty well taken care off, athletically speaking. A holdover from his boxing days, Stan kept his arms up to snuff with the ceiling mounted speed bag in his room, but laziness or the amount of his life the Mystery Shack always took up resulted in the rest of Stan's body going with far less attention.

The man had always possessed incredible core strength; it was something genetically built into him. But now his middle seemed a little more to reflect that. He still had his paunch but it had receded by inches and Rick could more easily imagine the wall of muscle beneath it. Rick presumed if Stan ate the local cuisine in each port the way he had back in the tapas place that had attributed to keeping Stan from getting too thin too quickly. When Stan had joked that Ford had found the weight he had lost, Rick thought he wasn't exactly wrong. They still had two very different body types outside their similar height and general shape, but the exchange of amenity and activity in the men's lives had done its part to bridge the gap the smallest bit. Once again the Pine Brothers were at their best learning from each other.

"O Captain, my captain..." Rick smirked playfully. He put his arms around Stan and pulled forward into the hollow of his legs. He let his hands glide over Stan's still solid love handles and pressed his face into Stan's sternum. He kissed the skin there, relishing the wirey give of Stan's chest hair. He hummed his approval, laughingly. "No complaints here..."

The twins laughed at Rick's muffled response. They shared another kiss then Stan pulled away.

"Alright, babe. Get on the bed. We've taken care of each other so now we gotta take care of you." He smirked and pulled Ford a little closer. Rick did as he was bid. He scooted back on the bed until he reached the white and navy pillows which he settled himself against them sumptuously. He undid his belt and the button of his slacks and somewhat theatrically put his hands behind his head in a pose of luxurious relaxation. He favored the twins with a frisky grin by way of invitation.

The reactions were separate but expected. Stan laughed. Ford rolled his eyes but still smiled. Stan pulled Ford in front of him like he had before and ran his fingers down his brother's stomach.

"Well, now that he's comfortable, let's get you ready." he growled in Ford's ear while looking into Rick's eyes. Stan undid Ford's belt and slid it free of the belt loops slowly. Moaning softly Ford tilted his head back to rest on Stan's broad shoulder as Stan's big hand palmed his erection through his slacks and the other hand unbuttoned and unzipped them. Stan's lips brushed the side of Ford's neck and he pushed his brother's slacks down until Ford's half hard cock slid out.

Short thick fingers wrapped around Ford's erection and Stan stroked him with slow, measured strokes. With an arch and a moan, Ford grabbed Stan's hips and ground back against him. Rick was astonished by how masterfully Stan handled Ford. It made Rick's own member strain against the confines of his pants but he didn't touch in hopes that there would be time for him soon enough. He let his hand run down the back of his head and caress his collar bone lightly. Rick chuckled under his breath, signaling he enjoyed what he saw. After ringing a few more moans from Ford, Stan pulled his hand away from the hard cock. He growled in Ford's ear as he rubbed his still trapped cock against his twin's ass.

"You're nice and hard now, Sixer. Why don't you get to work?"

Ford turned his head and smiled at his lover. "Will you join me?" He asked as if Rick was a sumptuous meal laid out before them.

"Mmm, absolutely. Get him started for me while I get my pants off." Was Stanley's answer before pressing their mouths together in an open and heated kiss.

Chuckling, Ford pulled away then kicked off his wing-tipped shoes before stepping out of his trousers and kneeling on the bed. The green and blue argyle socks were slipped off and then he crawled up the length of Rick's body. The scientist came in close to Rick's face. They were almost kissing but not quite.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" he purred as his fingers deftly undid the zipper on Rick's pants. Rick's body was thrumming with need. His desire was visible in both his body and the slight tremor of his breath on Ford's lips. He ran his fingers over Ford's shoulder and stopped there a moment when he felt the raised scars he had stitched himself two decades earlier. It was a fascinating affirmation that this was his Ford, back from the dead and no worse for wear.

"S'like all my Christmases come at once." Rick replied in a throaty way. His hands came around to cradle Ford's face loosely. He kissed Ford and shared his breath. Ford's eyes fluttered shut as Rick kissed him. There was something there. Something under the passion but Ford couldn't quite put one of his many fingers on it. Still, he kissed back as his fingers curled around the fabric of both Rick's trousers and briefs. Soft needy noises slipped past Ford's lips as they kissed and Rick's pants were shucked away.

Stan stripped the remainder of his clothes off as he stood by the side of the bed. He was hard and entranced by the sight in front of him. The two men he loved together was more than he could ever hope for. Once he was bare, he climbed into the bed and settled himself next to Rick

"Is there some for me?" he teased. Ford pulled away from Rick and smirked at him.

"Of course, Stanley. There's enough to go around." He leaned in and kissed Stan's neck as he pulled the other man into their coupling.

Without missing a beat Rick slipped an arm around Stan's shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss. He urged Ford to lay against his other side and gently pet the back of Ford's neck. He didn't dwell long on Stan before dipping back in to taste Ford's lips a second time then returning to Stan as if to compare their flavors. Rick could feel two pairs of hands running across his stomach and thighs and his whole body shivered with the sensation.

Rick pulled away to catch his breath and Stan and Ford took over, their lips meeting each other with practiced ease. Rick watched and his cock throbbed at the sight. He continued to touch the flesh offered to him, designating one hand to each twin.

"That's too damn hot, you two..." He said in equal parts humor and husky astonishment. Rick was met with twin lustful looks with just enough of each man's unique personality peaking through to keep them from being completely identical.

"You ain't seen nothing yet, Lover Boy." Stan growled seductively before he and Ford shared another communicative look. The blue haired scientist found his lips captured by Stan's own while Ford slid down the bed. The next thing Rick knew a hot, wet tongue was lapping at his testicles and the base of his cock.

Rick had not been expecting that.

"Oh Christ..." He said against Stan's lips, jerking in surprise. A moment later the initial shock passed and Rick trembled with pleasure and moaned into Stan's mouth. He blindly reached out to card his fingers through Ford's hair and kissed Stan that much harder. Stan kept pawing up Rick while Ford's hot and hungry mouth teased over Rick's member, licking and kissing but not sucking. Not yet.

After a few moments of deep heated kissing, when Stan could feel the want and need in Rick, the broader man tangled a hand in that wild blue-gray hair and yanked back. Stan took advantage of the exposed throat and left a few marks there.

"You should have expected the royal treatment, Debbie. You're in bed with the kings of New Jersey." The con man chuckled. Rick could feel a puff of hot breath from where Ford had been nibbling on the juncture of his hip and groin. The sound of the laughter reached Rick's ears a moment later. Stan licked up Rick's neck salaciously before releasing him and scooting down the bed to join his brother.

Rick laughed and laid his head back against the pillow. Stan was all talk of captains and kings and his confidence was enthralling. Like the showman he had become and honed to perfection over the years, Stan was taking control of the situation with such grace he could make you think it was your idea. Rick had never been to a three-way with its own MC before and it made him laugh harder. Rick rolled his head to gaze down at the two men all but draped in his lap.

Stan cupped the back of Ford's head and pulled him in for a deep slow kiss while his other hand stroked Rick's cock. His hand slid to Ford's cheek as he slowly pulled away.

"You ready for this?" He asked playfully.

"Yes. As long as we're together." Ford hushed back. They looked up at Rick and Stanley gave the tall man a wink before their mouths were on him. Stan wrapped his lips around the head of Rick's cock and Ford licked up the length.

Rick sighed and squirmed the tiniest bit. Ford, who knew his proclivities to shift when laid down for oral sex had put a firm palm on the flat of Rick's hip bone to keep him in place. Rick bit his lip in an expression of perverse glee at the sight of the two men working their mouth on his hard flesh and he hummed a little moan of enjoyment when Stan worked his tongue on the slit of Rick's cock head.

The sounds that Rick was making were an erotic symphony to both Stan and Ford and they knew they wanted more. Stan sucked and teased the head while Ford teased the shaft with his tongue. Swirling his tongue around the flared head, Stan hooked one of Rick's legs over his shoulder. One hand massaged Rick's thigh as the other one ran over Ford's back with encouraging touches. The two men pulled away from their delectable work and kissed slowly before switching places.

Ford took Rick deeper than Stan did. He knew how Rick liked the feel of his throat and how he could take the entire cock. It always made Rick's breath catch in his throat and Ford loved having that effect on the tall man. Stan had hiked Rick's leg further up on his shoulder and was lavishing his attention on the man's balls, sucking and licking just the way he knew would drive Rick crazy. Rick arched and cried out. His eyes rolled back into his head, eyelids fluttering closed when Ford took him down to the hilt.

"Oh Hell..." He breathed. He rolled his shoulders against the pillows and gently rocked his hips as the pleasure caused his body to undulate. His chin dipped against his chest and he looked at Stan and Ford with their faces buried between his legs and gave out a shuddering breath that evolved into a moan of pleasure. It was not his first experience like this. To his pride, Rick could boast that there was not much he hadn't experienced in his long list of sexual escapades. Though Rick didn't think this had ever been so expertly done to him before. The more sane part of his brain had some kind of saucy comment on the coordination of twins and their alleged psychic link lined up but he was too taken to find a way to let it march out his mouth. His toes curled over Stan's shoulder.

Stan pulled his mouth away from Rick's testicles and nuzzled Ford's cheek as he sucked Rick's cock. He gave Rick a lusty look before whispering to Ford.

"Kiss me."

Ford pulled off Rick's cock with a loud sloppy slurp. He smiled at Stanley and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and leaned towards his brother but was stopped by Stan's hand on his shoulder.

"Not like that, Sixer." He said as he leered at his lover and nodded towards Rick's cock and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. It took only a moment for Ford to understand what Stan wanted and he blushed scarlet.

"Stanley!" he scolded in both a scandalized and exhilarated way. Undaunted, Stan leaned in and licked over one side of Rick's member. Ford joined him in quick succession and soon it became a game of trying to kiss each other with Rick's cock between their mouths. They slowly moved up the hard length until their mouths met with the cock head between them, lips and tongues working sensually against each other and over the soft top of Rick's cock.

"Son of a bitch...!" Rick moaned and it petered off into a disbelieving laugh. He laid a hand on his forehead like a man floored by a magic trick. His smile was almost silly given the circumstances but Rick didn't care. He was long past caring about appearances with the Pines Brothers and he'd be damned if he would react less than what he was exactly feeling at the moment.

"You boys... You boys are too much. How damn much of this was pre-planned cause I'm starting to think you've done this before." He panted, trying to use humor to keep from peaking right there. "I mean you got this down to a science. Like right down to the microgram. Subatomic levels of fucking hotness. Ten quadrillion on the Scoville scale."

Ford laughed, pulling away from both of his lovers he smiled at Rick.

"We wanted you here and we discussed what we'd like to do to you but nothing as lofty as choreography." He laughed again. Stan was looking at Ford like he was perfect then turned the same look on Rick. He kissed the thigh over his shoulder before shrugging it off and crawled up to Rick. He kissed Rick deeply, his fingers carding through soft fluffy hair.

"We know you, lover boy. We want you and we wanna show you how much." He whispered against Rick's lips before kissing him again. Ford nuzzled Rick's hip bone and ran his hands over Rick's stomach. He could feel how close the other man was to climaxing and thought it was best to give Rick a little break.

Once more Stan pulled away, his tongue swiping over Rick's lower lip.

"Your twins are gonna take care of you, babe." He husked in Rick's ear as he nuzzled the other man's face.

Rick Sanchez blushed. For the first time since he was probably fourteen, Rick blushed. He could feel the blood rushing up into his cheeks and ears with a tight acidic twinge like sucking on a lemon. Yes, Rick knew all the jokes fetishizing twins that decades of porn had lodged into humanity's collective psyche. He knew it was the dream of every disillusioned college bro to reach the remote but exalted goal of bedding twin siblings as if that was some kind of marker of sexual prowess and Rick didn't care for such an idea. He would say it was juvenile and a sign of poor self-esteem.

At this moment though, hearing Stan purr those words in his ear, specifically that he and Ford were his twins, threatened to bring Rick to pieces. He had heard filthier words, but he hadn't heard anything so erotic in his life. Rick gripped Stan's bicep as if he would swoon despite currently sitting down and reared back to give him a look that was equal parts longing and acute concern.

"Oh my God, please don't say that!" Rick staggered and swallowed the thickness in his throat. His smile was thin and strangely mirthful. "Okay, do say it. But... Just- just warn a guy!"

Stan laughed so hard he almost fell over and Ford just stared in astonishment. THE Rick Sanchez was blushing and it was unlike anything either man had ever seen. Stan's big arms went around Rick and he hugged the man tight to him while nuzzling into the juncture of neck and shoulder.

"Was that too mushy for you, Debbie?" He laughed. Quietly, Ford moved up to be with the other men. One of his arms slid between Rick and Stan as he nestled himself into Rick's unoccupied side, a wordless source of comfort in counterpoint to Stan's exuberant excitement.

"Mushy isn't the word." Rick said truthfully. Though the two disparate reactions his expression had elicited in Stan and Ford were exactly the things he treasured in them. The brazen and the demure; the physical and the cerebral. That was enough to urge something akin to sentimentality to the surface. Rick didn't fight it but only let it bubble faintly by sagging gratefully into Stan and Ford's arms. He looked up at the ceiling wryly.

"This is where I wake up alone, right? Too good to be true... My twins..." He said, a drop of sincere sadness permeating his sarcasm. Rick relished the two sets of rib cages expanding with out of time breath on his back and chest.

A dumbstruck look passed over Stan's face and he was, for once at a loss for words. He was usually the feeling one. The empathetic teddy bear of a lover and friend but with Rick he was at a loss. Emotions were kept at arm's length. Reserved only for the rare instances when Rick would allow it. He looked to Ford for help over Rick's shoulder. The author was a bit at a loss himself but the desperate look on his brother's face spurred him to action.

"I believe that is unlikely. This is our home after all." He began, resting his chin on Rick's shoulder to better look at him. He smiled softly. "In addition, I used the last of the portal fluid you gave me to bring you that message to bring you here." He nuzzled behind Rick's ear. "In conclusion, unless you decide to leave, you will be waking up beside your twins in the morning." Ford kissed the shell of Rick's ear then nibbled the ear lobe.

Rick turned his head, hating to lose the touch of Ford's lips but needing to look at him. Leave it to Stanford to analyze Rick's derision. He had always had a knack for that.

"You are an oblivious jackass." He told Ford in a good mannered grouse. Stan laughed at that and Rick turned on him so quickly their heads almost knocked together. "And you are a pompous old loudmouth."

Rick worked his arms out of the tangle and struggled to turn enough to look at both men at once. He found himself laying back against the pillows and pulling both men to lean over him as he looked up at them, a hand in the grey hair of each brother. The trio's legs remained in a tangle.

"And I love you both." Rick's tone was serious and he had a sober look of earnestness in his worn eyes but there was something around the mouth; some kind of subtle parentheses being formed by the slightest curve of a smile that spoke of pride and idolatry.

The moment would have been perfect. Romantic and soft and intimate. Unfortunately, both Stan and Ford went to kiss Rick at the same time and banged their heads together. Glasses went askew and Stanley grumbled something about Ford being a knucklehead and to watch where he was going but it didn't deter Ford as he took the time Stan spent grumbling to steal the first kiss from Rick's lips.

"And I love you." he said against those lips. Those were words he had wanted to say since their New Year's Eve and he felt like he finally could. "And I know Stanley loves you too." he added after a moment and giving Stan a sheepish look.

"Yeah. Yeah. Move over, Poindexter. I want a turn." Stan said in mock annoyance as he leaned in and took his own kiss. When he pulled back he said to Rick. "I told you you belong with me." He said it in a smug way but there was love behind it. "Now you belong with us."

Rick laughed and returned the kisses with enthusiasm. It had been surprisingly easy to say it, Rick found, once it had come out of his mouth and the reward had been beyond his hopes. Rick was amazed the concept had scared him at all. After all, nothing scared Rick Sanchez. Perhaps, he mused, he couldn't say it to either of them until he could say it to both of them. The thought brought a remarkable bit of peace with it, if only momentarily. It was replaced with a smoldering desire as the kisses deepened and Rick could feel the brother's bodies began to softly roll against his own, unconsciously seeking friction.

"This test run ain't over yet, gentlemen." Rick said knowingly. His hands traveled matching paths down the backs of his companions and now Rick held a cheek in each one.

"Mmm, not by a long shot, Lover boy." Stan growled in Rick's ear. He kissed Rick's high cheekbone then turned and pulled Ford to him in a deep kiss. "You still wanna do this like we talked about?"

Ford turned bright red and his eyes flicked to Rick. "I do if you both do." he said in a shy way.

Stan wrapped an arm around Ford's shoulders and leered at Rick. "You wanna fuck Ford while I fuck you?"

"Stanley!" Ford hissed as he punched his brother in the chest. Rick chuckled (he found he was doing a lot more of that tonight than he thought he would) and swung his arm from around Stan to tilt Ford's chin in his direction. His other hand massaged the globe of Ford's buttocks.

"Hey, hey, nothing I haven't done before." He teased in a mock soothing voice. "I'm game."

He tossed a playful look back at Stan before gently urging Ford to roll over with him. The bed was not large and their change in position had put Ford just at the edge of the mattress. Rick lay atop Ford and their hard lengths rubbed against one another. Rick dipped his head and kissed the warm flesh of Ford's neck. He could smell Stan's cologne and the astringent alcohol was bitter on his lips. He looked into Ford's face and his smile promised passionate revelry the likes of which he had never seen before.

"Where you hiding the lube, beautiful?" He asked. Ford looked down a moment to breathe a light amused sound then nodded his head at the bedside table, making his curls toss on his forehead with a boyish charm. Rick ran his tongue over his teeth and waggled his eyebrows in a way so theatrical it made Ford laugh out loud, ringingly and he kissed Rick again before he allowed him to reach over and pull the drawer open.

It was nice for Ford to feel intimate with Rick again. He had missed that and it had meant more to him than he had wanted to admit. He sighed and arched under Rick's touch and lips. As Rick moved to grab the lube Ford looked up at Stan and his brother was watching them with a soft dreamy way. He reached out to Stan and pulled his brother close. "Are you alright with this?"

"It was my idea, knucklehead." Stan said leaning down and kissing Ford, one of his hands running down Rick's back and squeezing his slim ass.

Rick found his prized and snatched it up, sitting up in a straddle on Ford's stomach. He held up the plastic jar of Vaseline and popped the cap off with his thumbs. He tossed it to the bedside table. It missed and clattered to the floor forgotten. Rick coaxed Ford to sit up, which Ford did with one arm stretched out behind him for support. Rick kissed him, though it wasn't deep, then very matter of factly took Ford's free hand. To Ford's surprise, Rick swiped two of Ford's fingers into the silky paste then threw the pot in an easy way to Stan who caught it.

"Up to getting me ready for Stanley?" He drawled. He only looked away from Ford long enough to give Stan a hungry look that the man returned. Rick laid back at a diagonal across the crowded bed. He opened his legs, not lewdly but with casual comfort, on knee bent up, a foot between Stan's knees. His other leg was draped over Ford's own lightly. Rick tucked a hand behind his head and Ford thought the pose made Rick look oddly like some kind of underfed Rococo nude portrait. The folds of the quilt were rumpled under Rick's skin and hair, all of it in creamy contrasting shades of white and blue.

"What? Do you need coaching? Wouldn't be the first time I've done that for you..." Rick winked and it was sportive. He knew that he and Ford were thinking about the same particular instance from their years of adventurous sexual escapades. Ford smiled and kneeled up between Rick's legs. He slid his free hand up Rick's thigh and smiled at him.

"I think I can handle it." He kissed Stan quickly then leaned over Rick and kissed him. Deft fingers slipped between Rick's legs and slowly rubbed against his entrance.

Stan watched. This was sexy. His own hand wandered between his legs and he stroked himself as he watched. His other hand rubbed Rick's calf in his lap. Rick breathed a pleased sigh through his nose. He worked his lips skillfully on Ford's own, tongue darting out to taste Ford's mouth. Rick smoothed Ford's hair with relaxed touches that traveled down the man's neck and back up his cheek. Slowly Ford pushed one finger in. He felt more than heard the moan that pushed past Rick's lips. Pulling back slightly, Ford rested his forehead against the man beneath him, his finger slowly stretching him.

"Tell me when you're ready for another." he said softly. Ford was engrossed by the look on Rick's face. Never had he seen this powerful dominant man seem so open and giving. Stanford was loving every moment. Rick's voice was rich and warm with pleasure. He bit his lip and looked up into Ford's eyes.

"Go on. You won't hurt me." He said and it was only partially playful. There was a coaxing candor there as well that Rick had very rarely given to Ford before. He guided Ford's head down into the dip of his neck, where Ford at once began to kiss and nip at Rick's earlobe and jaw. Rick turned his eyes on Stan and there was lust and love in them. He saw what Stan was doing and his lips twitched up.

"Like what you see?" He asked and moaned again, throaty and low.  
The second finger had slid in with no problems at all and Ford was emboldened by the sounds Rick was making. He had never been one to leave marks on Rick as Rick had never been his in his mind. But now there was a sense of ownership. In Ford's mind, Rick belonged here with his twins and if Rick needed a reminder when he next looked in the mirror Ford would leave him one.

Stan smiled at Rick and stopped stroking himself for a moment. The next moves were less than graceful as he kneeled up and navigated the tangled of legs to come down laying beside Rick. He saw the shudder in Rick's body as Ford fingered him. It was very probable that Ford had found that sensitive spot inside of Rick and Stan adored watching the interaction between the two men. Stan dipped a few fingers into the container and when his fingers were slicked up to his liking removed them and placed the Vaseline on the floor by the bed.

"What's not to like?" Stan asked as he slid his slick fingers between the globes of Ford's upturned buttocks. As soon as Stan touched his asshole, Ford arched his back and spread his legs slightly. He moaned against Rick's neck as Stan slid one of his slick fingers inside. He fingered Rick a little faster as Stanley loosened him up. As Stan fingered Ford, he ran the fingers of his other hand through Rick's hair in a loving gesture.

"I got my boat. I got my men. We solve mysteries all over the world. It's the American dream." Stan continued before kissing Rick slow and soft.

His mouth was occupied but never the less Rick made his appreciation known with the touch of his hand on Ford's shoulder and back. His body bucked a little as Ford's sure fingers found and brushed something incredible that Rick would never get sick of no matter how much he did this. He turned his head to capture Ford's lips a moment then tilted his head back and gave an airy cry when Ford twisted his fingers, stretching his entrance. It felt wonderful. Ford had done this before, Rick noted with a lusty smugness. To his delight, when he tipped his head, Stan and Ford kissed either side of Rick's neck. Rick squirmed.

Mewling against Rick's skin, Ford pushed his hips back against Stan's fingers as his brother pushed a second one into him.

"Mmm... love it when he makes that sound." Stan growled in Rick's ear before nipping his ear lobe.

"Me too." Rick hummed. He flexed his muscles around Ford's fingers and ran his fingertips over Ford's side to pet his flank idly. Rick worked his other arm under Stan's neck to pull him in for a series of long slow kisses.

"Has he always been a screamer?" He asked at last "Or did I just do that to him?"

Stan chuckled against Rick's lips. "Naw. He's always been loud. I almost suffocated him with a pillow once cause I thought our parents would hear and he wouldn't stop moaning."

"Shut up, Stanley." Ford groaned then wailed as Stan pressed that spot inside him with practiced ease. His head was tilted back and his face was a study in ecstasy. Stan just smirked.

"Don't be shy, beautiful. I thought I worked that out of you years ago." Rick told Ford. He shivered and moaned when Ford's fingers pushed further in. He had added a third finger, but Rick was more than ready. "Oh God, that's good.."

"It'll be better when I'm fucking you." Stan growled in Rick's ear as he rubbed his hard cock against Rick's hip. "Trust me. Sixer ain't scared to make some noise." he added as he pushed a third thick finger into Ford and his brother wailed. Ford's cock twitched and leaked. Ford panted and moaned in Rick's ear. He finally pulled back and kissed Rick hard. When he broke the kiss Ford pressed his forehead to Rick's and asked in a needy voice.

"How do you want me?"

"Any way I can get you, beautiful." Rick panted, still unable to drop his teasing edge even now. He twisted with impatience a moment longer then purred "Get on your back."

This wasn't a usual position for them. It was so personal but Ford did want to look into Rick's eyes this time. He felt Stan pull his fingers free and Ford did the same for Rick. He kissed Stan deeply and caressed his face lovingly. Ford pulled back and hooked a hand behind Rick's head before sharing a deep kiss with him. He slid his hand down Rick's chest as he pulled away.

"I want you." he whispered as he lay back on the bed giving his lovers his sexiest bedroom eyes. He spread his legs invitingly.

Both Rick and Stan sat up. Rick looked at Stan and they both smiled like kids who were about to steal from the cookie jar and knew there was no way they would get caught. Rick grabbed Stan by his chain and pulled him in for an open-mouthed kiss. He broke it just as quickly and arched an eyebrow at the man before crawling up the bed to Ford.

"Oh, I want you." Rick said. He looked over his shoulder at Stan. "Both of you."

Rick guided Ford's hands to hang resting around his neck and then reached down, running his hands over Ford's knees and thighs on the way down to the hollow between his legs. Rick took himself in hand and pressed the head of his aching cock to Ford's hole. He felt Stan come up behind him, large hands running over his skin, his lips exploring Rick's shoulders and the top of his spine. Stan softly pinched one of Rick's nipples and rolled it between his fingers, making Rick cry out. Unable to wait any longer, Rick seated himself inside Ford, smooth as silk. They both moaned in tandem.

Ford's head tilted back and his eyelids fluttered as he moaned and gasped. He'd missed this. The feeling of Rick inside him was everything he remembered. His hands tightened on the back of Rick's neck.

"Oh Rick. Oh God." he gasped as he looked back at the man on top of him. He looked past Rick to Stanley who was pawing up their lover and smiled. "He feels amazing." He panted. Kissing over Rick's neck, Stanley smiled back at Ford.

"I know he does." Nuzzling behind Rick's ear lovingly as he still teased those pink delicious nipples, Stan whispered: "You ready for me, Lover Boy?"

"Yes..." Rick breathed. He pushed his ass back searchingly, inviting the touch of Stan's body. The movement caused Rick to partially pull out of Ford. Rick and Stan moaned again at the half thrust. Rick's eyes slid closed and he savored the warmth and tightness, his head lolling to the side.

It was always a rare treat to see Rick this needy and Stan was in love all over again. His hand slid away from Rick's nipple and gripped the boney hip of the man in front of him. It was a movement that was very practiced between them. Stan held the base of his cock and pushed into Rick easily. His thrust pushed Rick back into Ford and both of the men under him moaned as he groaned into Rick's ear. The grip on Rick's hip tightened as his other hand slid over Ford's stomach.

"God, I love both of you so fucking much." he moaned. Stanley was a passionate man and in this moment he felt so desperately in love he couldn't keep it in. His declaration wasn't elegant but it was the most honest thing the old con man had ever said.

Rick was so overcome. Everything below his waist was alive with indescribable burning fullness and he didn't dare move to begin with. He settled for dropping his head back on Stan's shoulder and hooking a hand at the nape of Stan's neck to lay smooth the neatly groomed locks that had very recently became mussed. Ford's hands broke their grip around his neck and brushed on Rick's stomach and sides. Rick moaned and breathed "I love you." to Stan before catching the man's lips in a shallow kiss.

He then bent over Ford, still holding on to Stan with an outstretched arm behind him, to lift Ford's chin with a knuckle. He kissed him and again whispered, "I love you."

It had been a long road for Rick to come to these words and Rick took pains to say it to them individually. They had each had years of Rick's life and deserved as much. With a hand touching each of them, Rick's form was stretched between the two men like the imaginary lines that connected the stars of a constellation.

Ford wanted to make some grand declaration. Quote some great philosopher on the virtues of love and beauty but at that moment he was so lost in his own feelings that he could not think of anything of any sophistication to say. One six-fingered hand glided down Stan's strong bicep as he guided Rick's hand to the side of his face and leaned into the touch.

"I love you. God, I love you." he panted to the two men. His eyes glazed over with lust as he arched slowly under them. "Now fuck me."

Carefully, Rick began to move, testing the close quarters with which he was held between the twins. Rick's strokes were short to start, making himself accustomed to Stan's pushes in on his pull out. It felt wonderful and all-encompassing. Soon, Rick added a roll to his hips as the thrusts became smoother and longer. The pleasure was hot and liquid like boiling oil starting in his core and draining into his limbs. Rick growled and clutched Ford at his sides for better purchase. He could feel the slightest ridges of Ford's ribs cage under his hands.

Stan's stomach pressed against Rick's back. He moaned as he moved with Rick. But if Stanley Pines had anything it was rhythm. Sighing into Rick's ear, Stan touched every inch of the man he could.

"I missed you baby. I missed you so much." he whispered between deep moans. Ford had his head tipped back and moaned softly with every thrust. His eyes were closed as he fought sensory overload. Seeing Rick and Stan over him was almost more than he could handle. Both men's intense love pushing into him and he was driven wild.

Stan's weight made Rick lean forward slightly, changing the angle at which he thrust and was penetrated. Every deep thrust into him pushed his cock deeper into Ford, who moaned with great appreciation. He was moving with more purpose now, feeling the rhythm and mastering it quickly. Ford was panting beneath him and Rick was enchanted by the sight. He had never seen Ford from this vantage before, where he could study each curve his face made when it formed a new expression of ecstasy or each bead of sweat forming at his greying temple. The former taboo and their agreement felt lifetimes away.

Ford opened his eyes and was surprised to see Rick studying him so closely with those too dark eyes. He took Rick's face in his hands and pressed their foreheads together. He felt frantic and heady as he gasped and moaned. This was far more intimate and pleasurable than he had imagined.

"It never felt like this before. I'll have to do more research." He teased and smirked a bit as he pressed his lips to Rick's and moaned softly into his mouth. Stan had reached over Rick's shoulder and was brushing the sweat-dampened strands away from Ford's face as he pressed his lips to the shell of Rick's ear.

"Damn. He tastes good, doesn't he? Mmm, and he's all ours." he growled lustfully to Rick. "Don't know if you gave him such a dirty mind or if it was travelin' around that did it but, Jesus Christ has he got one. Knows just how to moan and beg to be fucked to drive you wild. If you never let him fuck you you've missed out, babe. We can always fix that though." Stan's deep sexy chuckle rumbled through his chest as he thrust a little harder.

Rick could feel the vibration of Stan's laugh buzz down through his back. The mix of Ford's hot breath mingling with his own in their open-mouthed kiss and Stan's low and confident dirty talk made Rick shiver all over. At first, he had thought Stan was talking to Ford; saying Rick was all theirs and that filled Rick with a dangerous thrill of hope. It was quickly replaced by the lust that was at the forefront of his mind. The revelation that Ford could and did top Stan rang there and he thought of letting Ford do the same to him sent Rick's heart racing with a lewd excitement.

Rick broke the kiss and turned his head to address Stan. His lips brushed the corner of Stan's mouth as Rick spoke.

"He's... He's always been freaky... He just didn't know it. He just... needed a little push and nobody... Nobody pushes like me..." He explained in a halting yet proud way. To prove his point Rick matched the force of Stan's movement, pressing back into Stan's thrusts on his backstroke. Rick groaned and held Ford tighter. Ford pushed himself up on one elbow. The other arm wrapped around both men.

"Regardless, you were a good teacher." Ford panted against Rick's lips. "Whether I thought I needed the lesson or not." he chuckled between hot kisses.

Once Ford pulled away he turned his head slightly and brushed his lips over Stan's "and he's all ours."

His eyes were feral and possessive and he turned them on Rick as he kissed Stan. Rick's eyes locked with Ford's, watching the man kiss his brother. Ford melted into the bliss, eyes falling closed after a moment and giving his full attention to the kiss and the pleasure of their movements. Stan's jaw worked as he opened his mouth to taste with not only his lips but his tongue and though he was fresh shaven Rick could feel the barest scrape of five o'clock shadow on his overheated shoulder. Rick's chest rubbed against Ford's, their nipples brushing together in rhythm. Rick slid his hands back and around to grip the swell of Ford's buttocks. He yanked at the new leverage greedily.

"Ah! Oh Fuck!" Ford gasped as he pulled away from Stan and looked at Rick surprised by the new pounding rhythm. He collapsed back on the bed. He arched and threw his head back. "Yes! Like that! Ah Rick!"

Stan sped up his thrusts to match Rick's. "That's it, baby. Fuck, you're so sexy. So fucking good. We need you. We need you so fucking bad." he growled in Rick's ear as his hands traveled over Rick's chest. He sucked and bit at the side of Rick's neck, leaving his own mark opposite Ford's.

Rick spread his knees wider, wantonly pushing back against Stan. He pinned one of Stan's hands and held onto it, where he had stopped it on his hip. He twisted at the waist to capture Stan's lips and kiss him frantically. Stan was engrossed with the salacious slip of tongue and lips on him and the frenetic energy with which Rick rutted between him and Ford.

Stan stopped thrusting entirely a moment to let Rick take over, fucking Stan with one swing of his hips and Ford with the other in a lewd kind of syncopation. Rick reveled in it. To penetrate and be penetrated was an overwhelming experience and one there was no escape from. It was unfathomable.

Stan gripped Rick's hip so hard he was sure there would be bruises on the morning on those slim hips. Reaching between Rick and Ford's bodies and wrapping a hand around Ford's cock, he stroked in sync with the thrusts. Ford moaned and squirmed in desire.

"Don't! I'll climax too quickly!" he panted desperately. His hand pulled Stanley's from his member and laced their hands together, pressing their joined hands into the mattress. "I don't want it to end yet."

Ford had pulled Stan forward and that made Rick bend at the waist too. Rick used this to his advantage grabbing Ford under the knees and lifting his legs, almost doubling the man underneath him. Rick laid into Ford hard. He panted and cried out hoarsely.

"I don't... I don't know if I'll have much of a choice soon..." Rick told him breathlessly. The overstimulation Rick was receiving sandwiched in the middle was making it that much harder to keep from ending quick and messy. Still, he pumped on, his whole body singing with hot desire. Rick looked over his shoulder at Stan. With the pitch forward, Stan was thrusting a new deeper angle. Rick could feel what little flesh he had on his buttocks bouncing against the softness of Stan's lower belly. It felt incredible.

"How you holding up, Stud?" He asked. His eyes were hazy with lust and adoration.

"Mmm, I'm close too, Lover Boy." Stan rumbled. He kissed Rick deeply while Ford made wanton cries with every thrust into him. "He's more stubborn than I am." He chuckled against Rick's lips. He turned to Ford as Rock nuzzled against his jaw. "Come on, Sixer. Show us how hot we get you. Come for us, baby."

Ford shot a begrudging look at Stanley but he was too far gone to have a comeback. He wrapped his hand around his own cock and stroked. A deep guttural sound escaped his lips as he did so. His muscles tightened impossibly around Rick.

"God yes!" he choked out as he threw his head back on the pillows. Rick was all but shouting now, long moans vibrating in his throat as Stan thrust deep into him. Rick's stressed muscles wanted to lock up as the pleasure started to crest but he struggled to keep moving, spurred on by the hot breath on his ear and the way Ford tossed his head against the pillow.

Ford gasped and his whole body went rigged. The moan that ripped from his throat came from deep inside himself as his penis throbbed in his oversized hand. Brown eyes rolled back into his head and his body began to shake through his orgasm.

"Come for us, babe." Stan growled into Rick's ear as he felt himself throb and explode inside the other man. His teeth bit into Rick's shoulder as he thrust hard a few more times inside the other man.

Rick stopped dead in his tracks, unable to move at the onslaught of sensation. Stan's hard hammering from behind was striking the spot deep inside of Rick that was almost numbing in its furious pleasure. Ford was clenching all around him and Rick was caught in a literal body lock between the twins. All of Rick's muscles tensed, tendons pulling tight and Rick hung his head. He clenched his eyes closed and furrowed his brow and his whole body trembled with the coiled tension that was building up and ready to burst. Rick's jaw dropped open in a soundlessly shout. It was like his orgasm had hit a wall and the mounting pressure would never peak and instead Rick's head would explode. At last the agonizing bliss reached his apex and Rick was finally able to release the cry trapped in his vocal cords. It was a loud crescendo and it wrenched itself from him. Rick's whole form went limp in Stan's arms and he collapsed onto Ford, arms going slack and letting Ford's legs drop to the bed. Rick panted brokenly into the pillow.

Taking Rick in his arms, Ford kissed the man's temples. Just holding; letting Rick come back in his slow way. He and Stanley were able to come back to themselves quicker than Rick and Ford wasn't going to rush him. Stan gave Ford's hand one more squeeze before he let go. He growled through the last aftershocks of his orgasm. His hands were moved to brace himself on the bed.

"Fuck. Holy shit." He panted as his hips shifted involuntarily. Little gasps came from Rick beneath him. He knew he should probably pull out but his head was still spinning and his member was too sensitive just now. Stan looked at Ford as he held Rick. His brother's eyes were closed in bliss and a small smile was on his face.

"You alright?" He asked both men. Rick managed to lift one hand curled into a weak thumbs up before dropping it heavy and limp back onto the quilt. Ford chuckled and held Rick tight to him. He had opened his eyes enough to see the thumbs up and had closed his eyes again while nuzzling into Rick's neck.

"I feel very good, Stanley." he intoned. With slow movements, Stan pulled out of Rick with a little moan. He collapsed on the bed beside the others and wrapped his arms around both his lovers. He pressed kisses to the other side of Rick's face.

"Mmm...Good."

Rick struggled to turn his head out of the pillow and lazily capture Stan's questing lips. The kisses were shallow but delicious. Rick wanted to pull out of Ford but also was so comfortable in the two sets of arms around him he found himself loathing movement. Rick settled for only moving from the waist down, clumsily shuffled down the few inches to where he could plant his toes enough to gently extricate himself from Ford. He grunted softly as he did so, his over sensitive body dully crying out in a kind of enjoyable protest. He put his long arms out, one around Stan's shoulders pulling him in and the other around Ford's head lightly. Rick turned his head and kissed Ford, slow and lovingly. It was a new experience, kissing Ford like he kissed Stan, but Rick was not complaining. Rick then pressed his face into the pillows. He muffled something into them.

The twins looked at each other in joint confusion, hoping that the other might have some answers from their personal relationship with Rick but Ford's blank look and Stan's shrug answered that pretty quickly.

"Rick, that was incomprehensible." Ford said rubbing the man's back.

"Yeah, we didn't catch any of that, lover boy." Stan added with a good-natured chuckle.

"I said, which one of you is going to go above deck and dip me in the water?" Rick lifted his head and said it through a sickly grin. Rick was sticky and debauched and increasingly pleased with himself over it. Stan laughed so hard he almost fell off the bed. Ford smiled and wrapped his tattooed arms tighter around Rick.

"Good plan. We'll just drag you behind the boat till you're clean." Stan was still laughing hard enough to shake the bed. Ford gave Stan a sheepish look.

"We could use a damp towel though."

"You want me to get it?" Stan asked incredulously. Motioning to the nearly boneless Rick laying stop him, Ford answered:

"I'm not exactly able to move at the moment, Stanley."

Stan huffed a fake sigh of exasperation before climbing off the bed and sauntering over to the small head attached to the bedroom. Stan could be seen in the doorway as he dampened a cloth and proceeded to wipe himself down. It wasn't meant to be sexual but Stan didn't hide how he wiped the fluids off his softening penis and the pubic hair surrounding it. He winked at his lovers before rinsing the cloth out and bringing it to Ford. Accepting it, Ford gently nudged at Rick.

"Can I roll you over?" He asked softly. Rick looked at Ford dreamily then beyond him to Stan where he winked himself.

"You could sell me to the gypsies right now and I wouldn't mind." Rick chuckled. With a roll of his eyes, Ford gently rolled Rick off of him and chuckled again when Rick flopped like a rag doll.

"Do you have the ability to wipe yourself off or do you need my assistance." he teased as he leaned down and placed a small kiss on Rick's lips. Stanley sat on the edge of the bed watching the scene. Rick returned the kiss and smiled a little bit as if he had been caught playing possum. He sat up and took the cloth. He softly ran the cloth over Ford's stomach and genitals, taking pains to handle them gently. The look of sweet delicate surprise on Ford's face was priceless. He quickly cleaned himself up, starting with his front then leaning forward to reach down and beneath. That done, he crawled across the bed and sat behind Stan, hugging him around the waist. One of his legs hooked around Stan's thigh.

"What're you doing all the way out here?" He asked into Stan's shoulder. His lips brushed Stan's tattoo as he spoke. Stan's big hands came down on top of Rick's.

"I like watching you two together." he said after a momentary pause where he simply enjoyed the closeness of Rick. Looking over at Ford, Stanley smiled. His brother was laying on his side on the bed and was watching the two men with a small smile on his face.

"You voyeur. You absolute disgusting voyeur." Rick teased. He rubbed his forehead back and forth on Stan's sweat cooled skin in a little shake of his head. It was about as purposefully contrary as Rick could get this evening. If sex with one person made his pliant with afterglow, if anything this was double. Ford snorted a laugh.

"You should talk." He blushed as soon as he said it. "I'll explain later, Stanley." was added after his twin raised an eyebrow. Mollified by that response, Stan pulled Rick's hands from his waist and proceeded to turn and push Rick back onto the mattress. He held those long thin fingered hands above the other man's head. Kneeling on the bed over Rick, Stan leaned in close to his face.

"Yup. I'm your disgusting voyeur." he growled seductively. "I'm the big man remember? And I'm gonna enjoy watching when Sixer fucks you one of these nights."

Stan slipped his tongue into Rick's mouth and kissed him slow and deep, tasting his lover the way he had many times before. It was surprising to Ford how thrilling it was to watch Rick be dominated, especially by Stan. It sent a spike of lust through his muscular body and if he hadn't just orgasmed a few moments ago (or if he had been a couple decades younger)he knew he would have been fully erect.

Rick let himself be handled, his body lazily arching up to touch as much skin as possible when they kissed. His and Stan's chests came together and Rick enjoyed the way he could feel Stan's chest expanding with breath against his own. The kiss broke with the silken sound of their lips parting. Rick looked up into Stan's eyes and the old familiar challenge was there.

"Same to you, Stanley." He said Stan's name as a silly childish taunt, drawn out and raspy.

"I've now been saddled with two horny old men." Ford teased airily as he moved down the bed to the other men. "If we were younger I'd fear we'd never sleep again." he chuckled as he kissed Stan. Stan's kiss was long with a bit of tongue and love in every movement. He let Rick watch from his pinned position before pulling away from Stan and kissing Rick the same way.

Rick's hand were still pinned above his head but from where Ford had leaned down to kiss him, Rick could just reach the man's wrist and he took it in his hand as a sign of connection. When Ford moved away, Rick chuckled and it would have been devilish if not for listlessness of it.

"Sleep is for the weak..." Rick droned. He promptly followed that with an unapologetic yawn. Stan chuckled and slid his hands down Rick's arms as he kissed him again. He was starting to find it was hard not to kiss Rick.

"Come to bed." Ford said with a small smile before climbing off the bed and starting to pull the sheets back. Rick sat up and shuffled back out from under Stan then collapsed against the pillows. With the quilt pulled back, the sheets beneath were cool on Rick's bare skin. He lay in the center of the bed, his whole frame wilting with exhaustion. He tilted his head back and sighed. It was still surreal and if Rick hadn't been so satiated he might have been waiting for the hammer to fall on this whole situation but his mind was still docile enough to just enjoy it. His limbs felt gratifyingly heavy as they sunk into the softness of the bed.

Ford slid under the sheets and up against Rick's body. He placed Rick's arm around his shoulders and pillowed his head on Rick's shoulder.

"Come to bed, Stanley." He said sweetly. Stan stood from the bed and just looked at his two lovers for a moment.

"This. This is beautiful." he said before joining the two men. "Mmm... oh yes." he rumbled as he snuggled into Rick's other side and closed his eyes.

Rick's mind was coming back to him, now clouded by fatigue rather than afterglow. He started to wonder distractedly. What would happen in the morning? Would Stan and Ford have such a rosy outlook on the situation once the haze of lust had settled and drifted away on the sea breeze? Rick fought the thoughts, doing his best to banish them. Rick decided he could cross that bridge when they came to it. He instead focused on the men on either side of them and the relaxation that was seeping into his bones. Rick had not slept much over the last week and what sleep he had gotten had provided no rest. The warmth and safety afforded to him by the Pines brothers was humbling, to say the least, and it attracted Rick into their comfort.


	6. Chapter 6

It was the lap of the water that awoke Rick. It was partly what had put him to sleep last night but now everything was calm and quiet enough for Rick to notice it. The dawn sun was reflecting off the water, in through the porthole and onto Rick's face. The panel of yellow light was bright enough to light up the room but still not hurt Rick's bleary eyes.

Rick knew where he was by the swaying of the ship in the sea where they had been anchored. It was the first time in a long time Rick had not woken in a new place with the customary jerk of confused panic. The only other places he woke with such ease was the Mystery Shack and his room in the Smith house. Slumped over his desk in the garage was usually a fifty-fifty shot.

The world was quiet here, save for the light toss of waves on the hull of the trawler outside. Rick couldn't even hear any seabirds, a testament to how far out from the coast the Pines brothers had taken them.

Rick surveyed the room. It was neat and orderly, probably both a product of limited space and the meticulousness that Rick had always suspected of Ford. Stan never made his bed. He always said it was stupid because he was just going to mess it up again anyhow. Rick was fascinated by the ways in which the brothers differed so fundamentally yet worked together with seamless precision the way magnets of different polarities attracted each other without fail.

Their personalities continued to show themselves on the bedside tables. Rick could tell what side of the bed was who's at a glance. It wasn't the stacked books on the right-hand side (the top one was a copy of "Tales From Earthsea" and the second tome had no title. It was more weathered and still speckled with dirt.) that lead Rick to believe which was which. Rather, It was the two pairs of glasses on the left-hand table. Amidst the deposits of loose change and the gold wristwatch, two pairs of glasses were folded and placed lovingly beside each other. Ford's, which Stan had taken off his brother in response to his perpetual habit of falling asleep wearing them, had been placed down first and then Stan's own, just a bit closer. It was a gesture of love and compassion that sang of Stanley. A sign of sweet, reverent protection. The conspicuously clear spot on the table just large enough for both pairs made Rick suspect that this ritual was a nightly occurrence.

Rick had gotten very used to Stan's living habits and the way he kept his things and while he couldn't say Ford had had a home in the time they knew each other, he could say that Ford's hideouts sometimes were lived in long enough to maintain some kind of homeyness and it was never anything like Stan's. Now here in a space owned by both Stan and Ford, Rick could see the traits of each blending more beautifully than he thought possible. A perfect pair.

Rick looked down and saw them both, one on either side of him. Stan was half-burrowed in the crook of Rick's armpit, presumably hiding his eyes from the light, but Rick could still see most of his face where it was on his chest. He was serene, at least as serene as Stan could be, and Rick took a moment to admire the combination of his grey hair and the watery light. It shined gossamer and created the illusion of a faint halo.

Ford was lower down, his head resting on Rick's stomach. His hair was tousled boyishly and Rick found it fetching. His square jaw was relaxed and his breathing even. Rick took in the display of Ford sleeping peacefully, knowing it was rare (Rick couldn't recall a time outside of New Year's Day seeing it) and wanting to absorb it fully. The brother's hands were clasped loosely over Rick's lower stomach, bunching the quilt down around Rick's hips. The sharp angle of Rick's pelvic bone peaked out along with the slightest wisps of pale pubic hair. He wasn't cold between the early morning sun on his skin and the two sleep warmed bodies curled against him.

The enormity of what had come to past the night before bubbled up in Rick. Rick wanted to thrash and dance in bed, kicking his legs under the covers and proclaiming that he had actually bagged twins but it felt juvenile and he didn't want to wake the others. He did it in his head instead. Beyond that superficial thought, Rick had to acknowledge that he was both happy with and scared of this turn of events and didn't know why. His heart was strained but less heavy. It was a relief but also something troubling that Rick preferred not to dwell on. Hoping to double down on that decision, Rick closed his eyes to try and return to sleep.

Ford made a soft noise. A not quite awake but getting there noise. He inhaled through his nose and shifted to look at where he was sleeping. Rick's skin was soft here on his stomach and even though they had wiped off before they had gone to sleep he could smell all three of them on Rick's skin. He looked up and saw Rick's eyes shut and Stanley snoring softly. With the quietest movements he could muster, Ford disentangled his hand from Stan's and moved up to lay his head on the pillow next to Rick's. The quilt was pulled up and Ford pressed a slow gentle kiss against Rick's neck.

Rick swallowed and his Adam's apple bobbed. He cracked an eye open, looking for all the world like a lazy house cat in a sunbeam and regarded Ford. He settled back into bed, working his shoulders into the pillows and turned his head, resting it against Ford's own. His eye slipped back closed and he smiled.

"Did I wake you?" He asked softly bringing his hand to the back of Rick's head. It rested there and it felt more intimate than anything they had ever done together.

"Naw..." Rick was slurring but his smile did not wane in the slightest. He rubbed up and down Ford's arm with just enough pressure to let Ford know he was awake. It was something he often did with Stanley upon waking. His eyes remained shut. "Been up a few minutes now..."  
  
Looking past Rick's collar bone Ford could see Stan still sleeping.

"I wish I could sleep like Stanley." he murmured with a soft chuckle. This felt good. This felt right and comfortable. "He always sleeps so soundly."

Rick studied Stan fondly. He pressed a kiss to the top of his head and put his arm around him, holding him close.

"Yeah. Has he always slept like a rock?" Rick's eyes flicked to Ford "Like when you were in high school, I mean."

It was an unassuming question, but the underlying meaning of asking about that specific time was there. When Stan and Ford were first lovers. Ford rolled his eyes and gave a long-suffering sigh.

"Not only could he sleep through a cataclysmic event; he snored like a buzz saw." Ford said in an exasperated tone through it was still soft. "I did use it as an excuse to climb into his bunk and sleep beside him so he'd stay on his side though. He's not as loud if he's sleeping on his side. That was before things... progressed between us, of course."

Rick folded the arm around Stan so he could place his hand on the side of the man's head. He wanted to pet the hair under his hand but refrained for fear of waking him. He gave Ford a look and it was proud if not expectant.

"Of course? No, no 'of course'. Are you saying you were the one to make the first move? You sneaky little thing, you." He taunted. Ford blush slightly. He gave Rick an indulgent smile.

"I wouldn't put it quite that way but I did go out of my way to be close to him. He did the same for me some of the time but I was too deep in denial to notice." He chuckled. "It's all a very long story. Perhaps we'll tell you some time."

"I could give you all the details on me and Stan and Palmer's Peak but I don't think it's the same. It's definitely not the love story you two had." Rick replied. There was no malice in it. It was friendly ribbing with perhaps a hint of sincerity beneath the surface.

"There's time to exchange our histories when we're ready." Ford said with a smile. His big hand slid down to Rick's collar bone and rested there with reassuring weight. "Stanley and I haven't really discussed our sexual past much. He just regained his memories and I'm a bit embarrassed by my own so we haven't pressed the issue but we'll get to it when the time comes." Ford's eyes were on Stan's sleeping form. There was a loving softness there but suddenly an impish spark lit up his brown eyes. He looked as Rick conspiratorially. "Do you know why Stanley was afraid of heights?"

Rick's eyebrow lifted and combined with the bow like purse of his lips to create the picture of cautious curiosity.

"No..." It was a quiet drawn out response but there was a certain eagerness there. Ford leaned closer to Rick and his smile lit up the room more than the early morning sun ever could. He spoke in a low conspiratorial way.

"I had the upper bunk when we were young. One night Stanley came home from carousing with his friends and climbed into my bunk and started kissing me. We must have been about fifteen at the time. Our relationship hadn't become anything as of yet but we had kissed under the pretense that we were practicing for when we had girlfriends." Ford gave Rick a wilting look as he thought about how silly it all seemed now and how naive he'd been. "Anyhow, he kisses me as though we could be separated forever and he'll never see me again. He must have been drunk because he tasted like cheap beer and cigarettes. Stanley often hung out with a tougher crowd than I did. We were so lost in our affections we forgot where we were. We made to roll over and Stanley fell out of the bunk!" Ford was trying not to laugh too hard but it was difficult as he remembered the startled look on Stan's young face as he lay on the floor trying to figure out how he got there. "Our father heard the commotion and came in to chastise us for roughhousing."

Rick broke out into a smile of his own and the sunlight glinted on the wet surface of his teeth as he snorted a laugh, trying to keep his body from shaking enough to wake the third occupant of the bed.

"That's... That's why he's afraid of heights?" He reiterated around the chortles. There was a quiet giddiness in his voice. Rick always heard the trope about why you never wanted your previous girlfriends to meet and thought it wasn't too dissimilar to this. The pulling in his chest came back but Rick tuned it out. Chuckling and nodding, Ford leaned that last inch closer so their foreheads touched.

"Yes!" he said it louder than he meant to and quickly hushed himself. "He'd only go up to the roof if I held his hand the whole time. To this day I don't know if that was a ploy or if he really just couldn't bear it but I could never get him into the top bunk ever again." They laughed together and for the first time ever Ford saw Rick truly happy. And it was breathtaking. When he finally reined himself in he just laid there and looked at Rick for a moment before kissing him chastely and whispering a single word:

"Stay."

Rick breath caught in his throat. His lips parted like he was going to say something but Rick had nothing prepared. He was certain the twins weren't going to follow through with their offer. They had gotten a fun and dirty idea and Rick had seen it through to the end but there was no way they would bring themselves to actually stand behind their ludicrous plan the next day. That was the origin of the frightening pain in Rick's chest and he had tried hard to hide his apprehension. Perhaps Ford had sensed it in him. For someone who was usually socially oblivious, Ford had his moments where he could look right into your heart with a pragmatism that Rick actually envied.

Last night, Rick had had every intention of staying but now when the opportunity was posed to him, Rick found himself hesitating. Cynicism came in to breach the gap.

"You don't want that. We said a lot of stuff last night we didn't mean." Rick sounded unconvincing to even his own ears.

"We meant every word, Rick. Stanley wanted you to stay since the hotel. It's why he left us alone. He wanted us to realize we still wanted each other." Ford said softly. "He suggested this whole thing later and I will admit I was skeptical at first but Stan seems to know my heart better than I do." He caressed Rick's face in a soft loving way. "Between Stanley and I, we can keep you happy and entertained. We can give it all to you now. You are needed. You are wanted. You are loved. Stay."

Ford's eloquence was hazardous in its own cut and dry manner. He may not have had the charisma with words his brother did but the good faith with which he delivered them could almost make you believe it.

"Happy and entertained. Sounds like a pet." Rick could not hide the scoff in his voice. "I don't know if you know this but turns out when you have it all, you stop wanting it. You start inventing new things to want. Then you stray to go find them. Believe me, I know. It would be real shitty of me to do that to you two. Again."

Rick's eyes were downturned. He smiled sadly. Ford searched Rick's face then his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Keeping you as a pet would be like trying to keep a male Gazorpazorp as a pet. I don't think the boat could handle such a task." He smirked at Rick. "We would never treat you like that. You would be our lover and companion." he paused again as he thought, his thumb running along the pronounced collar bone. "If that isn't enough for you there are several countries that have legalized same-sex marriage. I'm sure Stanley would agree to a marriage between yourself and one of us. Spain only requires a passport and a birth certificate. Stan can take care of the documentation that would be needed." Ford was mumbling to himself in the way he often did while puzzling out a plan. His eyes were no longer on Rick as he thought through the whole idea.

Rick was touched that, without a second thought, Ford was prepared to fraud the Spanish government with forged papers just to make it legal but he saw Ford was descending down a logistical rabbit hole that would just go deeper and deeper if left alone. Rick snapped his fingers by Ford's ear.

"Ford, Ford. Come back to me, Spock." He urged. When he had Ford's attention, Rick let his hand fall back to the sheets. With his arms trapped under the two men on either side of him, the best physical contact Rick could manage was to softly knock his forehead against Ford's. It was as close to a sign of affection as Rick could manage. "That's not it. Marriage doesn't keep me from running off. Ask my ex-wife. I know how I am."

Ford blinked in surprise.

"You were married? It never occurred to me that you would have married before now." His brow furrowed more as he thought about what Rick had said. "So you would leave us? After all of this, you would walk away? What more can we do, Rick? We want you to stay. We'll do what we can."

"Don't look at me like that, beautiful." Rick groaned. His brow and jaw were working as if he were in pain. At such close proximity, he couldn't do anything to hide it. He bit his lip and stared down and away.

"Rick." Ford called softly. He pressed a soft kiss to Rick's forehead and stayed. "I know we didn't talk much before. We never spoke of the problems or our concerns and I think that is why we ended so badly. Talk to me now. There's something you aren't saying." All of this was whispered against the skin of Rick's forehead. Ford's breath was warm and his words were said with nothing but tenderness. "Honesty hour."

Rick's eyes slid shut in both an expression of both defeat and respite. There was never a time when Rick was comfortable letting his weakness show but he cherished Ford for knowing how to take it safely out of Rick's hands.

"I won't get tired of you. I know that. S'been thirty years and I'm not even beginning to get sick of your dumb asses." Here Rick hesitated. He clutched Stan a little tighter and felt the warmth of his even breath on his arm. "You're going to make me say it, aren't you?"

It was a rhetorical question and for once Ford seemed to grasp that as he said nothing and waited patiently for Rick to continue.

"I'm scared, okay? I'm scared that you two will get bored. That you'll grow out this phase and leave me behind." The words were spilling out and while Rick kept them at a hush, he knew there was no way Ford couldn't hear them. "H-h-how, how do I compete with what you two have and don't you tell me it's not a competition, I don't mean it like that. I mean... You don't add onto something that's already perfect. That's wasteful."

Rick leaned his weight into Ford helplessly, trapped between the two brothers. Ford held Rick as best as he could in that position.

"I once thought something very similar. I thought each person's story only had one writer. More than that and the story loses perspective and not everyone's perspective was worth reading. So in schools, I wrote essays and those led to college where I wrote case studies and articles. Pages and pages of my thoughts and hypotheses but they never felt finished. All of this led me to Gravity Falls.   
Feeling the need to tell my story, a story I felt was important to tell for it was my own, I wrote a book and then another. Each felt less finished than the last. Something was missing. So I began my third book and this one I truly could not finish. My pride and anger are what drove me into the multi-verse before I could fill the pages with my knowledge.   
I did retrieve my last book when I returned but only to find my great-nephew, Dipper, had been scribbling on the blank pages and in my research notes. He had kept a diary of his summer vacation. I was aggravated by this. A child writing in my research book. But as I read through his additions, I found them to be quite good. He answered questions I had had no answers for. The diary entries I thought he was writing were actually his own research notes and they were very good for a young man his age. His perspective made my book better. My narrative was richer for it. I began to write my story again but it still did not sound right so I added my family and suddenly it felt whole. For once I could finish and feel satisfied."

Ford paused in his narrative. He still felt ashamed of these feelings. That he'd rather be a famous scientist and alone than be a regular man surrounded by those he loved.

"I thought my story was perfect when I was alone but I was wrong. Adding to it only made it better. You could never make us any less than we are. You would only make it better. Love does not diminish love. It only grows." he caressed Rick's face as he spoke. "There are still adventures to be had and stories to tell. You said it yourself, we could turn the universe upside down together. Now we have Stan to keep us grounded. I trust you. Stanley and I would be honored to have you be part of our story. We'll find room for you... somewhere." he chuckled as he looked around the small room. "Or we can always get a bigger boat. We'll need more research space if we're working together anyhow." he smiled at Rick and leaned into him.

Rick wanted to pin it on Stan and Ford. On their bond making him inferior. But that was too harsh and in the long run untrue. Their bond didn't reduce him because it was something Rick could very well be capable of. Although the possibility of that turn of events lived on a far away shore from this little boat. Rick suddenly understood what the tightness in his chest was. The knowledge rippled through his mind, bringing satisfying clarity with it. Rick had felt this recognition pervading the muck of his thoughts on blackboards and over beakers but never so simply in the presence of another like this. He remained thoughtful and silent a moment. The waves outside and Stan's relaxed breath were the only things either of them heard.

"I have a grandson now. Did I tell you that?" Rick asked. He said it in a way that said the discussion wasn't over yet. Ford was starting to get an idea of what the challenge Rick was facing right now.

"You didn't but I believe I met him when I brought that message to your dimension." he said quietly.

"Oof, then maybe you saw what a mess he was. He's a spaz, he's a whiner, he messes up just about everything you throw at him. And let me just say, I've met eunuchs with more balls than Morty." Rick explained. He turned his head to look up at the ceiling. Ford's hand fell away and rested on Rick's collar bone.

"He doesn't make waves and lets everyone, including me, walk all over him." Rick didn't look to see the expression of consternation forming on Ford's face. He didn't need to. Rick chuckled and it was equal measures brackishness and something next door to tranquility.

"But you know what? That little shit is the only person who understands me enough to know who I am and he still," Rick sighed through his nose and spoke again, his voice stronger if not astounded by the reality of his words. "He still believes, under all the garbage, that I'm a good person. He doesn't think I need to - I don't know- be someone else or a better version of myself or something."

Rick lapsed back into thought a moment as the words hit home. He had never given credence to the concept that he could be himself and also be good. It was startling. Laying down, barring his soul like this, Rick felt stupidly like he was on a therapist's couch.

"This is pathetic." He said it like a disclaimer to his next sentence. "You know he's my only friend?"

"I'd say he's not your _only_ friend." Ford nuzzled Rick's jaw. His palm rested over Rick's heart. Rick eyed Ford as best he could from his position. He gave a wry smile.

"He's a good kid, is what I'm saying, and I don't deserve him but it's like... we're all we've got. I've got to look out for him. And while I'm sure you and Stan get up to all kinds of Hardy Boys shit out there, for me... It's not an adventure without Morty."

Rick wondered if this was what it was like to need someone. It was a fragile feeling that Rick didn't know if he liked being responsible for, like holding a priceless antique that didn't belong to you, but at the same time Rick had no desire to relinquish it. It was his and Rick was possessive. Rick tilted his head back to regard Ford. Ford looked back and Rick could see the brown of his eyes cast into bright jewel-like vibrancy in the band of sunlight.

"I want to stay, I do, but it's not as easy as all that. In that dumpy little suburb, I really could do something. There's something there, something with that stupid little dweeb and his bitchy sister and their mom that I didn't know I was capable of. The thing you and Stan have always had. Something you can't give me." It would have nauseated a more withdrawn Rick to say it but at this moment it was impossible to hide anything from Ford. Rick pulled his arm from around Ford and took the hand resting on his chest. With a soft delicate touch he placed Ford's hand atop Stan's. "Family."

He pressed his hand over theirs with a warm finality before pulling away and tucking his arm under his head. It was Rick choosing family over freedom this time and the irony was not lost on him. Rick would tell himself later that he hadn't gone native on the family thing. It would make him feel better in the cold light of day to make up an excuse but that was for later. This confession was for the place inside himself that Rick liked to pretend even he didn't know about.

In Ford's eyes Rick could see sadness but there was understanding there as well. He closed his eyes for a moment as if steeling himself, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips as he mentally prepared. When he opened his eyes again they were full of love for Rick. He took a breath and was about to speak before he was interrupted by a voice from Rick's other side, somewhere in the vicinity of Rick's armpit.

"Oh my God. So much talking. So early and so much talking." Stan grumbled as he lifted his head and rubbing his eye with the heel of one palm. "Don't even know what you guys were saying, just that you couldn't shut up. The first time in years I don't have to wake up to an alarm clock and I end up fucking two goddamn early birds." None of this was said with real malice but with generic early morning annoyance. Stan rolled over and stood from the bed with a noise that sounded like a disgruntled bear waking up from hibernation.

"I gotta hit the head." he grumbled yawning and stretching. As the door slid shut behind Stan, Ford gave Rick a long-suffering look.

"Well, that certainly killed the moment." he joked dryly. "What I was going to say was that I understand. Now. I believe I deserve a kiss before I have to tell that grumpy bear of mine the bad news." He smiled in the roguish way he knew made him look somewhat like Stanley.

The Rick of a few years ago would have been unable to cope with that smile and those eyes like dark polished carnelian. It would have made Rick immediately renege on all his declarations in favor of the instant gratification before him. Actually, Rick was surprised how easy it was to restrain himself. Rick tenaciously refused to believe he had grown or changed. Instead, he used his newly freed arms to take Ford's face in his hands and kiss him. It was without urgency, lips parting slightly to capture Ford's own. Rick took his time, sleepy and patient in his movements. Ford hummed his approval and slid his arms around Rick's waist and pulled him close. Ford liked this very much and though he wished Rick would stay more than anything, he did not push.

Rick pulled Ford over to straddle him, still kissing him. The kisses were shallow but full of a honeyed affection that melted into both of them. At last, Ford pulled away and looked down at the thin man beneath him. Rick fixed Ford with a pastiche of his tough-guy demeanor, all brazen angularity in his features. It was not an expert recreation, in fact Ford might even call it half-hearted, but he didn't say anything.

"And if you ever tell Morty I said any of that back there, I'll turn you inside out." Rick warned. He pointed a sharp finger in Ford's face. It was trying to be gruff but not all that hard. It transformed into a sideways grin. Ford chuckled.

"I would never betray your confidence." He leaned down for one more kiss and he savored it. There seemed to be something he wanted to say to Rick but he held back. With a soft sigh, he removed himself and got out of bed and walked over to the dresser.

The door opened to the bathroom then and Stan came back in looking considerably more awake than he had a few minutes ago. His eyes ran over the two men in the room.

"Now that is what I call a good morning." He joked and started to get back into bed.

"No Stanley. Put on some clothes. It's time to make breakfast." Ford admonished as he pulled on some soft pajama pants and a shirt.

"What? Why?" Stan asked surprised.

"Because it is." Ford said simply as he ran a big hand through his messy bed head. Stan looked at Rick as if he was expecting Rick to protest this injustice for him.

Rick sat up and returned the look, long face looking even more stretched with the height of his eyebrows and the confused way his lower lip drew downward. He shrugged, hands held out with palms flat, in a somewhat overdone indication that Ford was the boss and Rick had no clue how things worked on the ship so he had no say.

"Mutiny!" yelled Stanley "This is mutiny, goddamn it!"

Ford rolled his eyes. "For the last time Stanley you aren't the captain so there's no way there can be a mutiny." He came around the other side of the bed and slid an arm around Stan's waist and gave the man a sweet morning kiss. "I would never mutiny on you even if I could." He chuckled "Now put on some clothes and come along." Grabbing his glasses Ford headed to the galley. "Take your time Rick." He tossed over his shoulder.

Stan smiled after Ford. Sure, he was a little annoyed but he was so in love he couldn't really stay upset. Stan scooped up his boxers off the floor from the night before and pulled them on.

"Don't get used to this, Lover Boy. After today you'll have to pull your own weight around here." Stan chuckled as he leaned over the bed to kiss Rick. "Before you know it it'll be 'Come along Rick. Come along Stanley.'. Better get used to that, cause it's worth it." Stan grabbed a tank top out of their shared dresser and pulled it on as he followed Ford.

The door slid shut and Rick just watched it a moment, letting the realization of the decision he made cool and become solid, like a fired piece of china, still too hot to be touched. It was less heavy than he expected it to be. When Rick was left alone with his thoughts was when things started to go sour. When you were better at thinking than everyone else, overthinking was a constant.

Rick got out of bed and he was pleasantly sore all over. He used the head and figured out the tiny shower stall with more difficulty that he would care to admit. Only after he blasted himself with a jet of tepid water in the ass did he realize that the shower head was handheld and on a hose for rinsing off. Rick cleaned up as best he could. He held the shower head over his head to soak his hair. Muffled, he could hear Stan's and Ford's distinct voices from outside.

It started out as a quiet rumble. Just two men having a conversation in another room but then the tempo seemed to speed up until it Ford said one short thing. Then silence. It only lasted a moment though before Stan's deep voice could be heard quite clearly through the walls.

"What do you mean he's not staying?!?!"

The Pines brother's stood facing each other in the small walkway of the galley. Stan had a gobsmacked look on his face. Ford looked as taciturn as ever. The ingredients for breakfast were laid out on the counter all but forgotten in this new realization.

"There's no need to yell, Stanley." Ford said crossing his arms over his chest.

"What did you say to him? I know you two were talking for a while. What did you say that made him not wanna be here with us?" It was said with some anger and a bit of annoyance. A look of surprise passed over Ford's face and he was silent for a moment as his eyes passed over Stan.

"I asked him to stay." Ford turned back to the counter and pulled down a bowl from the cupboard. He didn't look at his brother as he added quietly. "He wants to be with his family. Neither of us can blame him for that."

Stan stood there quietly for a moment. The look on his face was repentant. One thick boxer's arm slid around Ford's waist. Stan kissed the side of his neck as his lover took down a measuring cup.

"I'm sorry. That was shitty of me."

"You should be and it was." Ford answered. He looked sidelong at Stan for a moment before he began measuring out pancake ingredients. Stan rested his chin on Ford's shoulder.

"You forgive me?"

Ford paused in what he was doing. He turned his head to better look at Stan.

"Am I still on probation?" He smiled a bit as he said it.

"Naw, I guess not." The broader of the two brothers chuckled as he held on a little tighter.

"Then you're forgiven." Ford said placing a quick kiss to Stanley's lips. "And we're having waffles instead of pancakes because you were rude to me."

Stan laughed again. "Jeez. I'm gonna have to take lessons from Rick to keep you in line." he teased. He went quiet a moment later. "it's gonna be rough saying goodbye." He added after a moment in a sullen tone. Ford stopped whisking the batter and placed a hand over Stan's.

"Perhaps he'll come visit. We hadn't discussed that much." he said hopefully. Stan was about to answer when the laptop on the galley table started making noise. A happy little jingle that let the brothers know that someone was calling them. Ford looked at the clock on the wall.

"It's almost eleven in Piedmont. Could Dipper and Mabel be calling at this hour?"

"They're thirteen, Sixer. We stayed up later than that when we were their age." Stan disentangled himself from his lover and opened the laptop. The screen confirmed that it was their grand niece and nephew calling. "We better pick up or Dipper's gonna think we got eaten by a sea monster or something."

Rick rung out his hair and, unable to find any towels, sat on the unmade bed, drip drying and listening to the voices, much clearer now through the thin door. His choice felt validated by the way he heard how the two men spoke frankly yet kindly to one another. Rick was prone to snap back when challenged the way Stan had just accused Ford and the idea of at once apologizing (or for that matter forgiving) before the sparks of confrontation could grow to into a full-blown argument was foreign to Rick. He knew people were supposed to 'talk things out' and 'not go to bed angry', but Rick never could give those ideas credit. That was where the Pines Brothers were different. Rick remembered Ford mentioning that he did sleep in his own bed with Stanley the night of their argument. Rick knew he would have been stuck up on deck, a stubborn yet thorny perch for passing seagulls if he had been in Ford's place.

Rick searched the room and found his underwear and pants crumpled to one side of the small cabin. He pulled them on and zipped them. As he was closing his belt he heard the tinny electric chirp from the other side of the door. He cocked his head to listen more closely.

"I suppose you're right. We'll keep it brief though." Ford said sliding into the booth seat opposite his brother.

"Those little knuckleheads did pick the worst time to check in on us old coots." Stan laughed as he clicked the green answer button. The first thing both men say was something that looked like two dark tunnels. They turned out to be Mabel's nostrils. The young girl pulled away enough that both men could at least see her braces as she smiled at them.

"Grunkle Stan! Grunkle Ford! What took you so long?!"

"Hey Mabel! Back up! I can't see." Dipper complained as he pulled gently on his sister. Both twins sat on one of their beds and looked like they had the day that Stan and Ford had put them on the bus back to California. Dipper wearing the hat Wendy had gifted him and Mabel in one of her many crazy sweaters.

"Hey kids! Good to see ya!" Stan said smiling.

"It is good to see the both of you but isn't it a little late." Ford said disapprovingly. Both Stan and Mabel made the same exasperated noise. Stan rolled his eyes as Mabel pleaded their case.

"It's Saturday night, Grunkle Ford, _and_ we did all our homework so don't worry about it."

"Besides," Dipper pipped in. "We hadn't heard from you since you were headed to Spain and we thought we should check in." From out of the camera's view the teen boy produced a notebook and a clicky pen which he promptly started clicking in a fast, excited way. "What category of ghost did you find? Were there ghosts at all? Are ghosts in other countries like the ones here or do they need a separate category system?"

Mabel looked at Dipper almost offended. "Dipper! You aren't asking the important questions!" Turning back to the screen Mabel leaned in and in a serious tone asked: "What weird stuff did you eat, Grunkle Stan?"

"Anchovies and blood sausage." was Stan's answer as if he was telling a ghost story.

"Gross!" Mable exclaimed laughing and smiling.

"Really Mabel?" Dipper rolled his eyes at his sister's antics. "Where are you headed next?"

Ford was smiling as he answered. He always enjoyed the antics of his family. "Italy. I've heard tell of a seven-headed dragon and a sorceress that lives in a swamp there."

The ecstatic sound that escaped Dipper was almost comical. "oh my gosh! Just like Dungeons, Dungeons and more Dungeons!"

"It could, in fact, be very similar, my boy." Ford laughed.

Rick could hear the conversation and decided that it was best to not dwell on any feelings when such a distraction was laid out before him. Rick did best when he didn't have a plan. He slid the door open with a clack and strode barefoot out of the bedroom.

"Look alive, bitches. Super genius on deck!" He hollered. The adult twins looked up with surprise. They had both half forgotten that Rick was there.

"Rick! Hold on!" Stan said trying to stall a shirtless Rick from coming into view. Ford's brow crinkled in consternation.

"If you could please watch your language, Rick." He said sternly.

"Woah-ho-ho! Who's that?" Mabel asked in her usual excited way.

Rick was heedless of Stan and Ford's concerns. He snatched up the milk carton from the counter and sauntered into view. He gave a swig from the carton and looked into the computer monitor at the children the way someone at the aquarium might observe the jellyfish tank.

"What do we have here? Stan, are these your little monsters?" He asked not looking away. He sounded pleasantly surprised. He shook out his still dripping hair a little, making the locks stand at their more customary if not wild angles. He placed a hand on his hip and continued to drink from the carton. If Dipper and Mabel knew who Mick Jagger was they might have made a connection that was cosmetic though perhaps through a geriatric lens.

One of Stan's big hands covered his eyes. He was still smiling through he had the decency to blush a little.

"Yup. That's them. The little knuckleheads themselves." He chuckled before peaking out at his brother through his fingers. Ford drummed his fingers on the table and looked nervously between his brother, his lover and his grand niece and nephew. Dipper had his usual skeptical look on his face.

"Grunkle Ford, who is that?"

Sighing in a resigned way Ford answered: "Kids, this is Rick Sanchez. An old friend of ours."

Stan chuckled across the table and Ford glared at him. Stan just shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest, accepting the situation as it was.

"Cool! Where you a juvenile delinquent with Grunkle Stan in New Jersey? " Mabel asked. Dipper didn't know if there was trouble with the connection but Rick's smile made him look like he had too many teeth. He wondered if there were any Mediterranean cryptids matching the vague description of "boney shark man". Rick thunked the carton onto the booth's table with a hollow sloshing noise and put both hands on to the table top to lean into the camera. Dipper noticed how the spikes of his pale blue hair tossed, fin-like and fought the sudden urge to start scribbling notes.

"Sorry, sweetie but your uncles and I didn't meet each other until the long long ago time of the nineteen eighties." He framed the decade with a playful semi-spooky warble to his voice. "Stan and me met in Oregon and Ford?" Rick glanced over to the man who had a sudden warning look of fear in his eyes. Rick had no intention of outing the seedier parts of Ford's travels but he did let him squirm a second longer than absolutely necessary before continuing "Well, we met just about everywhere else."

"A multiverse traveler!" Dipper exclaimed as he unceremoniously pushed Mabel aside. From off camera a high pitched and annoyed, "Dipper!" could be heard. But the young man ventured on heedless.

"Are you from another dimension? What makes your dimensions different from ours? How do you move between dimensions? Are you a shark-human?" Dipper babbled.

"Hey kid." Stan said in an annoyed fashion. "Maybe reel it in a bit huh?"

"Reel it in. I get it. Shark man humor." Rick chuckled. If there was any doubt over who the boy took after, his sudden insatiable curious put them to rest. The boy radiated an eager dorkiness that Rick recognized from the inside of a DD and More D book. Rick couldn't help his need to mess with him.

"In order: doy, by and large better Chinese food weird enough, as quickly as I can and I'm not saying I've eaten chum but I'm not saying I haven't either." Even with his sardonic words, Rick was cajoling the kids. Stan was reminded of Ricardo Sanderson and how Rick did have the ability to be charming, given that all the attention was on him and just how enthralling and interesting he was. Stan laughed, Ford groaned and rolled his eyes and Dipper scribbled furiously in his journal.

"He's weird! I like it! " Mabel exclaimed pushing in next to Dipper. She gasped. "Can he come to Gravity Falls when you guys visit next summer?"

The pines brothers shared a look then looked back at the twins in the laptop screen.

"Sweetie, it ain't that simple." Stan said trying not to seem sullen.

"Rick has his own family to get back to. It really isn't our decision to make for him" Ford continued.

"Oh come on!" Mabel protested and for once Dipper agreed with her.

"But I still have so many questions! It's research!"

Rick was weirdly touched by the enthusiasm the kids had for him. They were both just like their uncles, that was obvious. Maybe that's what drew Rick to them so easily but there was no question about it. There was a reason Stan had gushed about them back at the tapas place. As far as kids went, which were by and large terrible, these ones were at least distinct and interesting.

Rick couldn't help but see the sad glimmer in the eyes of the two men on either side of the table and that cut through the levity a little. Rick reared back to his full height, arms crossed a little stubbornly. He stuck his hip out to the side and squinted at the brothers.

"Hey now, I'm just going home. It's not Shawshank, I can leave whenever I want. Morty might benefit from getting chased through the woods by The Mothman. You two old men gotta learn to lighten up." He sniffed. Rick did his best to hide any betrayal of kindness beneath a judgmental snort.

There was a resounding whoop from the other side of the monitor which showed the younger twins excitement while the Pines brothers turned to look at Rick very surprised.

"Wait! Morty?" Mabel exclaimed. "A boy? Oh I can just imagine the summer romance now." She squealed as she dramatically flopped back on the bed. Dipper grabbed at the laptop before it could tumble off the bed from the aftershock of Mabel's flopping around.

"Mabel, be careful! Dad will kill me if we break it and all my guide to the unexplained videos are on here."

Stan was studying Rick. His eyes running over the tall man's form. "You mean that? You wanna come visit?"

Ford's face was tilted down but he did look at Rick questioningly from the corner of his eyes. Rick shrugged his shoulders in a way that said it didn't matter but he lifted his eyebrow in a silent and blithe provocation.

"I mean whatever. Let the little brats hang out and play Xbox. Where's the harm in that?" He scoffed. "I'll slum it with you guys if I have to. Why does it always have to be all or nothing with you two?" Rick added with relish.

While Ford's smile was soft and subtle Stan's smile almost split his face in two. He turned back to the laptop. "You kids better be ready to meet your Uncle Rick next summer but I don't wanna see you pickin' up any of his bad habits." he wagged his finger at the computer screen in a clearly comical way as the kids cheered and started chanting "Uncle Rick! Uncle Rick!"

Ford chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Don't you think 'Uncle Rick' is a bit much." He tossed a bright smile Rick's way.

"Lighten up, Sixer." Stan said and leaned across the table to playfully punch his brother in the arm.

"Yeah!! Uncle Rick!!" Rick hollered, pumping his own fists into the air. He gave over to the revelry, boisterously lifting his arms over his head and all but cackling at the chaos he had caused and the hidden triumph in his heart.

Ford shook his head good-naturedly as Stanley joined into the chant. Waddles, who had gotten a bit larger since Stan had placed the pig on the bus back to California, wanted to join the fun. He tried to hop up on the bed which prompted a yowl from Dipper and an excited squeal from Mabel. The twins looked up past the laptop as their bedroom door opened up. A man's voice said.

"Ok, you two. Settle down now. It's time for bed."

"Ok Dad." Dipper said around his chuckles.

"Let us say goodnight to the Grunks and it'll be lights out." Mabel hugged Waddles around his thick neck as she smiled at her father.

Stan nodded. "Your pop is right, kids. It's late over there."

"When'd you get all rulesy, Grunkle Stan?" Mabel asked with a pout.

"Mabel..." Ford said in a disapproving manner.

"Alright. I get it. Good night, Grunkle Ford. Good night, Grunkle Stan. Good night Uncle Rick." Mabel said with a wave.

"Good night. Let us know when you get to Italy." Dipper added before ending the call.

As soon as the call ended Stan stood from his seat and wrapped his arms around Rick's shoulders. He kissed the taller man.

"Mmm. You're done for now, buddy. Once those kids love you it's game over." he teased before giving Rick another kiss.

"Jokes on you, Stud. I can tell what a sucker you are for those little monkeys. It's all part of my plan. Ingratiate yourself to the children and you can get away with murder." Rick teased right back. He turned to sit on the edge of the table. He crossed his foot at the ankle and scooped up the milk carton.

"What do you say, beautiful? Can I mess with the boy? Bet I could whip up a tiger shark DNA cocktail. Nothing big. Webbed toes or a maybe a second row of teeth. I can have it put together by memorial day weekend easy." He asked, sipping from the carton again. Stan laughed. Ford looked mildly horrified.

"Please don't." The author said a tad exasperated. "Dipper is quite...jumpy. It would be best not to exacerbate that."

"I think it'd be funny. The kid could use some toughening up."

"Stanley."

"Ok. Ok. No shark Rick. Now you gonna make us pancakes or what, Poindexter?"

Ford stood from his seat and took the milk carton from Rick and shook it to make sure there would be enough to make breakfast while giving Rick a wry look.

"I believe it's possible but we'll need more milk when we make port and I'm making waffles Stan. We discussed it. Now, go shower and make sure to leave me some hot water."

"Yes, dear." Stan teased as he walked back towards the bedroom.

Rick stayed through breakfast and even into the late afternoon when Stan insisted that if it was going to be another year until he could see Rick again that there was no way they weren't spending some time on this beautiful ocean fishing. Rick hemmed and hawed and teased Stan for being the main candidate for an AARP commercial but he sat in the folding chair and threw a line over the side. They caught nothing. Neither of them cared.

During their "wrangle with the monsters of the deep" as Stan put it, Ford sat in the wheelhouse, both doors open to let the breeze pass through. He worked on translating Enriqeuta's diary and took long moments to watch Rick and Stan carouse and cajole each other. Rick approached him and they sat together a while. Now that they didn't have the dire straights of Ford's lifestyle separating them, the pair actually had time to talk science, trading theories and studies. Within the hour, Enriqeuta's diary had been forgotten on the table and Ford and Rick were on the wheelhouse roof tinkering with the wires and connections of the antennas in an attempt to recalibrate and improve performance to Ford's radar and many other instruments. Stan called the men a couple of eggheads but smiled up at them squinting into the midday sun.

Rick ensured the twins that he could rig the satellite to pick up interdimensional cable. Ford was intrigued but politely declined while Stan, on the other hand, didn't know what that was but could dissect the individual words and was overjoyed at the prospect of receiving stolen cable in international waters and encouraged Rick heartily.

There was a lingering desire to give soft kisses or touch gently. The urges snuck up on each of them individually at different times, brought on by the sound of a laugh, the flash of sunlight on pale hair or just a prolonged look that each of them hoped the others didn't notice. No one brought it up if they did. They dismissed it as it felt too sentimental, instead just enjoying the company of the others.

The sun was beginning to dip below the water line far in the distance before Rick finally acknowledged that it was time for him to go. The breeze off the water was cool but not uncomfortable. The three of them stood on deck. Rick approached Ford first. He stayed a respectable foot away but looked at him with an honest affection.

"Better fuck off before I cramp your style." He said through an easy smile. Ford chuckled. It was a bit sad but resigned.

"I never would have believed you thought I had style." he said looking up at the other man. "If I do have some I can't imagine you'd cramp it."

"You don't. But you've got him to make you look good." Rick teased, nodding at Stan. Rick reached out and took Ford's arm at the bicep. He leaned in and kissed Ford not on the cheek but not on the lips either. It was at the corner of his mouth and it was unusually chaste for Rick.

"Take care of him, alright?" He added. It was heartbreakingly earnest but gone before Ford could examine it further. Ford nodded.

"You have my word."

Rick seemed satisfied with that. He nodded then stepped over to Stan. He punched Stan in the shoulder softly.

"I think I'll miss you most of all, Scarecrow." Rick told him with an attempt to be sanguine. There was still a distinct melancholy to it. Stan was not taking this in stride like his brother. His hands were stuffed in his pants pockets and his shoulders were hunched in a defiant way. He looked very much like a petulant child.

"Yeah. Yeah. Joke it up buddy." he grumbled as he looked down at the deck and shuffled his feet. Rick seemed to mimic the pose by putting his own hands in his pockets and slumping his shoulders forward to put himself on an angle where he could look up into his face.

"Oh come on, don't be like that." He said, trying to keep things light but hopefully not so light as to make Stan feel like he was being toyed with. "You got Mr. Wonderful back and the life of adventures you were always too scared to actually go for. You've been looking for that from the minute you walked into Palmer's and you did it all without any of my help. It's not like one dirty old man in your life's gonna make much difference."

Perhaps Rick and Ford had just stepped into the realm of understanding their love for each other, and that made it easier to know how to turn it off. They were both very good at compartmentalizing after all but it wasn't like he and Stan who had tended to that feeling for years.

Stan looked at Rick and for a moment it seemed like he wasn't going to speak. That his defiance was so deeply planted that he would refuse this goodbye. Then he made a grumbling "hmph." noise and pulled his hands from his pockets to cross his arms over his chest.

"I'm a greedy man, Rick. You worked on my books for years so I guess you'd know that. I want ya both. I've wanted ya both for years but ya had to actually listen to me for once and go find your family. You are just so damn frustrating sometimes." There was a lightened air to how he spoke now. He was letting go. He was letting go begrudgingly but he was doing it. "Don't you dare make me a liar to those kids. You better be in Gravity Falls next summer or I ain't gonna forgive you."

Rick softened at that response. It was as close as collapsing into Rick's arms in a sobbing heap as he could get and Rick preferred it that way.

"Yeah sure. But just to get in good with to the little brats." Rick said it in an airy way as if the kids could be of some use to him if they were foolish enough to trust him. That was never too far from the realm of possibility. Rick closed the space between them to just a step and placed a hand on the side of Stan's head. He pressed his palm along Stan's jaw. "Quit that face. It'll stick. And while I think anything's an improvement to that mug, Spock over there has to wake up to it every morning."

He nodded to Ford in acknowledgment. It was a joke but Rick would eat his own fist before he'd admit to the tightness in his throat that he could hear quite clearly. Hooking one hand around Rick's wrist, Stan leaned in, pressing their foreheads together.

"Took you this long to figure out how ugly I really am, huh?" he chuckled. It didn't last long. He leaned into Rick with his eyes closed and a pained look on his face.

"Stanley." Ford called softly, ready to both support Stan and be the tough one if need be.

"I know Sixer. I know. Just... Another minute."

"Buck up, Stanley." It was a whisper. Stan could hear the smile in Rick's voice but he could also hear the regret. He knew by the teasing way Rick had decided to use his full name, Rick was trying to deflect sorrow with a dry wit as he always did. The way Rick's hand tightened at the base of his neck, pressing their foreheads that closer cued him to Rick's feelings as well.

"Alright," Rick croaked, sighing through the emotion and conquering it. He lifted his head and moved his hand to clap Stan's shoulder and squeeze. Stan still held on. Rick looked into Stan's face with a strong sure look, not emotionally neutral but leaning toward compassion. He was more staunch when he spoke again, just about having swallowed the lump in his throat. "You're in good hands."

Stan pulled away slowly and felt his brother's six-fingered hand rub his back reassuringly. Stan looked at Ford and smiled.

"I know I am." he turned back to Rick. "Don't get yourself killed or arrested out there."

Rick saw the way the pair looked at each other and felt not a twinge of jealousy. Instead, there was an adoration there. Rick had always thought himself Stan's semi-casual boyfriend and Ford's semi-serious friend with benefits but he liked this single definition better than the many grey areas of the in between. In the long run being alone was better for Rick. Being alone didn't mean being lonely. Rick brought out his portal gun and dropped his head to one side in a mock pose of annoyance.

"You never let me have any fun." He joked. Stan slid an arm around Ford's trim waist.

"Fine. Go blow something up then. But don't forget next summer." He said pulling Ford closer.

"Take care of yourself, Rick." Ford said as he put an arm around Stan's shoulders.

Rick nodded and lifted the portal gun in a lazy salute. He turned and triggered a portal a few feet away. He tucked the gun away and walked toward it in a slow and easy gait. He didn't turn but lifted his hand above his head to wave as he walked away. He lowered it and put both hands in his pockets adding to his relaxed posture. Rick Sanchez left the Pines brothers and went home.

It was the lap of the water that awoke Rick. It was partly what had put him to sleep last night but now everything was calm and quiet enough for Rick to notice it. The dawn sun was reflecting off the water, in through the porthole and onto Rick's face. The panel of yellow light was bright enough to light up the room but still not hurt Rick's bleary eyes.

Rick knew where he was by the swaying of the ship in the sea where they had been anchored. It was the first time in a long time Rick had not woken in a new place with the customary jerk of confused panic. The only other places he woke with such ease was the Mystery Shack and his room in the Smith house. Slumped over his desk in the garage was usually a fifty-fifty shot.

The world was quiet here, save for the light toss of waves on the hull of the trawler outside. Rick couldn't even hear any seabirds, a testament to how far out from the coast the Pines brothers had taken them.

Rick surveyed the room. It was neat and orderly, probably both a product of limited space and the meticulousness that Rick had always suspected of Ford. Stan never made his bed. He always said it was stupid because he was just going to mess it up again anyhow. Rick was fascinated by the ways in which the brothers differed so fundamentally yet worked together with seamless precision the way magnets of different polarities attracted each other without fail.

Their personalities continued to show themselves on the bedside tables. Rick could tell what side of the bed was who's at a glance. It wasn't the stacked books on the right-hand side (the top one was a copy of "Tales From Earthsea" and the second tome had no title. It was more weathered and still speckled with dirt.) that lead Rick to believe which was which. Rather, It was the two pairs of glasses on the left-hand table. Amidst the deposits of loose change and the gold wristwatch, two pairs of glasses were folded and placed lovingly beside each other. Ford's, which Stan had taken off his brother in response to his perpetual habit of falling asleep wearing them, had been placed down first and then Stan's own, just a bit closer. It was a gesture of love and compassion that sang of Stanley. A sign of sweet, reverent protection. The conspicuously clear spot on the table just large enough for both pairs made Rick suspect that this ritual was a nightly occurrence.

Rick had gotten very used to Stan's living habits and the way he kept his things and while he couldn't say Ford had had a home in the time they knew each other, he could say that Ford's hideouts sometimes were lived in long enough to maintain some kind of homeyness and it was never anything like Stan's. Now here in a space owned by both Stan and Ford, Rick could see the traits of each blending more beautifully than he thought possible. A perfect pair.

Rick looked down and saw them both, one on either side of him. Stan was half-burrowed in the crook of Rick's armpit, presumably hiding his eyes from the light, but Rick could still see most of his face where it was on his chest. He was serene, at least as serene as Stan could be, and Rick took a moment to admire the combination of his grey hair and the watery light. It shined gossamer and created the illusion of a faint halo.

Ford was lower down, his head resting on Rick's stomach. His hair was tousled boyishly and Rick found it fetching. His square jaw was relaxed and his breathing even. Rick took in the display of Ford sleeping peacefully, knowing it was rare (Rick couldn't recall a time outside of New Year's Day seeing it) and wanting to absorb it fully. The brother's hands were clasped loosely over Rick's lower stomach, bunching the quilt down around Rick's hips. The sharp angle of Rick's pelvic bone peaked out along with the slightest wisps of pale pubic hair. He wasn't cold between the early morning sun on his skin and the two sleep warmed bodies curled against him.

The enormity of what had come to past the night before bubbled up in Rick. Rick wanted to thrash and dance in bed, kicking his legs under the covers and proclaiming that he had actually bagged twins but it felt juvenile and he didn't want to wake the others. He did it in his head instead. Beyond that superficial thought, Rick had to acknowledge that he was both happy with and scared of this turn of events and didn't know why. His heart was strained but less heavy. It was a relief but also something troubling that Rick preferred not to dwell on. Hoping to double down on that decision, Rick closed his eyes to try and return to sleep.

Ford made a soft noise. A not quite awake but getting there noise. He inhaled through his nose and shifted to look at where he was sleeping. Rick's skin was soft here on his stomach and even though they had wiped off before they had gone to sleep he could smell all three of them on Rick's skin. He looked up and saw Rick's eyes shut and Stanley snoring softly. With the quietest movements he could muster, Ford disentangled his hand from Stan's and moved up to lay his head on the pillow next to Rick's. The quilt was pulled up and Ford pressed a slow gentle kiss against Rick's neck.

Rick swallowed and his Adam's apple bobbed. He cracked an eye open, looking for all the world like a lazy house cat in a sunbeam and regarded Ford. He settled back into bed, working his shoulders into the pillows and turned his head, resting it against Ford's own. His eye slipped back closed and he smiled.

"Did I wake you?" He asked softly bringing his hand to the back of Rick's head. It rested there and it felt more intimate than anything they had ever done together.

"Naw..." Rick was slurring but his smile did not wane in the slightest. He rubbed up and down Ford's arm with just enough pressure to let Ford know he was awake. It was something he often did with Stanley upon waking. His eyes remained shut. "Been up a few minutes now..."  
  
Looking past Rick's collar bone Ford could see Stan still sleeping.

"I wish I could sleep like Stanley." he murmured with a soft chuckle. This felt good. This felt right and comfortable. "He always sleeps so soundly."

Rick studied Stan fondly. He pressed a kiss to the top of his head and put his arm around him, holding him close.

"Yeah. Has he always slept like a rock?" Rick's eyes flicked to Ford "Like when you were in high school, I mean."

It was an unassuming question, but the underlying meaning of asking about that specific time was there. When Stan and Ford were first lovers. Ford rolled his eyes and gave a long-suffering sigh.

"Not only could he sleep through a cataclysmic event; he snored like a buzz saw." Ford said in an exasperated tone through it was still soft. "I did use it as an excuse to climb into his bunk and sleep beside him so he'd stay on his side though. He's not as loud if he's sleeping on his side. That was before things... progressed between us, of course."

Rick folded the arm around Stan so he could place his hand on the side of the man's head. He wanted to pet the hair under his hand but refrained for fear of waking him. He gave Ford a look and it was proud if not expectant.

"Of course? No, no 'of course'. Are you saying you were the one to make the first move? You sneaky little thing, you." He taunted. Ford blush slightly. He gave Rick an indulgent smile.

"I wouldn't put it quite that way but I did go out of my way to be close to him. He did the same for me some of the time but I was too deep in denial to notice." He chuckled. "It's all a very long story. Perhaps we'll tell you some time."

"I could give you all the details on me and Stan and Palmer's Peak but I don't think it's the same. It's definitely not the love story you two had." Rick replied. There was no malice in it. It was friendly ribbing with perhaps a hint of sincerity beneath the surface.

"There's time to exchange our histories when we're ready." Ford said with a smile. His big hand slid down to Rick's collar bone and rested there with reassuring weight. "Stanley and I haven't really discussed our sexual past much. He just regained his memories and I'm a bit embarrassed by my own so we haven't pressed the issue but we'll get to it when the time comes." Ford's eyes were on Stan's sleeping form. There was a loving softness there but suddenly an impish spark lit up his brown eyes. He looked as Rick conspiratorially. "Do you know why Stanley was afraid of heights?"

Rick's eyebrow lifted and combined with the bow like purse of his lips to create the picture of cautious curiosity.

"No..." It was a quiet drawn out response but there was a certain eagerness there. Ford leaned closer to Rick and his smile lit up the room more than the early morning sun ever could. He spoke in a low conspiratorial way.

"I had the upper bunk when we were young. One night Stanley came home from carousing with his friends and climbed into my bunk and started kissing me. We must have been about fifteen at the time. Our relationship hadn't become anything as of yet but we had kissed under the pretense that we were practicing for when we had girlfriends." Ford gave Rick a wilting look as he thought about how silly it all seemed now and how naive he'd been. "Anyhow, he kisses me as though we could be separated forever and he'll never see me again. He must have been drunk because he tasted like cheap beer and cigarettes. Stanley often hung out with a tougher crowd than I did. We were so lost in our affections we forgot where we were. We made to roll over and Stanley fell out of the bunk!" Ford was trying not to laugh too hard but it was difficult as he remembered the startled look on Stan's young face as he lay on the floor trying to figure out how he got there. "Our father heard the commotion and came in to chastise us for roughhousing."

Rick broke out into a smile of his own and the sunlight glinted on the wet surface of his teeth as he snorted a laugh, trying to keep his body from shaking enough to wake the third occupant of the bed.

"That's... That's why he's afraid of heights?" He reiterated around the chortles. There was a quiet giddiness in his voice. Rick always heard the trope about why you never wanted your previous girlfriends to meet and thought it wasn't too dissimilar to this. The pulling in his chest came back but Rick tuned it out. Chuckling and nodding, Ford leaned that last inch closer so their foreheads touched.

"Yes!" he said it louder than he meant to and quickly hushed himself. "He'd only go up to the roof if I held his hand the whole time. To this day I don't know if that was a ploy or if he really just couldn't bear it but I could never get him into the top bunk ever again." They laughed together and for the first time ever Ford saw Rick truly happy. And it was breathtaking. When he finally reined himself in he just laid there and looked at Rick for a moment before kissing him chastely and whispering a single word:

"Stay."

Rick breath caught in his throat. His lips parted like he was going to say something but Rick had nothing prepared. He was certain the twins weren't going to follow through with their offer. They had gotten a fun and dirty idea and Rick had seen it through to the end but there was no way they would bring themselves to actually stand behind their ludicrous plan the next day. That was the origin of the frightening pain in Rick's chest and he had tried hard to hide his apprehension. Perhaps Ford had sensed it in him. For someone who was usually socially oblivious, Ford had his moments where he could look right into your heart with a pragmatism that Rick actually envied.

Last night, Rick had had every intention of staying but now when the opportunity was posed to him, Rick found himself hesitating. Cynicism came in to breach the gap.

"You don't want that. We said a lot of stuff last night we didn't mean." Rick sounded unconvincing to even his own ears.

"We meant every word, Rick. Stanley wanted you to stay since the hotel. It's why he left us alone. He wanted us to realize we still wanted each other." Ford said softly. "He suggested this whole thing later and I will admit I was skeptical at first but Stan seems to know my heart better than I do." He caressed Rick's face in a soft loving way. "Between Stanley and I, we can keep you happy and entertained. We can give it all to you now. You are needed. You are wanted. You are loved. Stay."

Ford's eloquence was hazardous in its own cut and dry manner. He may not have had the charisma with words his brother did but the good faith with which he delivered them could almost make you believe it.

"Happy and entertained. Sounds like a pet." Rick could not hide the scoff in his voice. "I don't know if you know this but turns out when you have it all, you stop wanting it. You start inventing new things to want. Then you stray to go find them. Believe me, I know. It would be real shitty of me to do that to you two. Again."

Rick's eyes were downturned. He smiled sadly. Ford searched Rick's face then his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Keeping you as a pet would be like trying to keep a male Gazorpazorp as a pet. I don't think the boat could handle such a task." He smirked at Rick. "We would never treat you like that. You would be our lover and companion." he paused again as he thought, his thumb running along the pronounced collar bone. "If that isn't enough for you there are several countries that have legalized same-sex marriage. I'm sure Stanley would agree to a marriage between yourself and one of us. Spain only requires a passport and a birth certificate. Stan can take care of the documentation that would be needed." Ford was mumbling to himself in the way he often did while puzzling out a plan. His eyes were no longer on Rick as he thought through the whole idea.

Rick was touched that, without a second thought, Ford was prepared to fraud the Spanish government with forged papers just to make it legal but he saw Ford was descending down a logistical rabbit hole that would just go deeper and deeper if left alone. Rick snapped his fingers by Ford's ear.

"Ford, Ford. Come back to me, Spock." He urged. When he had Ford's attention, Rick let his hand fall back to the sheets. With his arms trapped under the two men on either side of him, the best physical contact Rick could manage was to softly knock his forehead against Ford's. It was as close to a sign of affection as Rick could manage. "That's not it. Marriage doesn't keep me from running off. Ask my ex-wife. I know how I am."

Ford blinked in surprise.

"You were married? It never occurred to me that you would have married before now." His brow furrowed more as he thought about what Rick had said. "So you would leave us? After all of this, you would walk away? What more can we do, Rick? We want you to stay. We'll do what we can."

"Don't look at me like that, beautiful." Rick groaned. His brow and jaw were working as if he were in pain. At such close proximity, he couldn't do anything to hide it. He bit his lip and stared down and away.

"Rick." Ford called softly. He pressed a soft kiss to Rick's forehead and stayed. "I know we didn't talk much before. We never spoke of the problems or our concerns and I think that is why we ended so badly. Talk to me now. There's something you aren't saying." All of this was whispered against the skin of Rick's forehead. Ford's breath was warm and his words were said with nothing but tenderness. "Honesty hour."

Rick's eyes slid shut in both an expression of both defeat and respite. There was never a time when Rick was comfortable letting his weakness show but he cherished Ford for knowing how to take it safely out of Rick's hands.

"I won't get tired of you. I know that. S'been thirty years and I'm not even beginning to get sick of your dumb asses." Here Rick hesitated. He clutched Stan a little tighter and felt the warmth of his even breath on his arm. "You're going to make me say it, aren't you?"

It was a rhetorical question and for once Ford seemed to grasp that as he said nothing and waited patiently for Rick to continue.

"I'm scared, okay? I'm scared that you two will get bored. That you'll grow out this phase and leave me behind." The words were spilling out and while Rick kept them at a hush, he knew there was no way Ford couldn't hear them. "H-h-how, how do I compete with what you two have and don't you tell me it's not a competition, I don't mean it like that. I mean... You don't add onto something that's already perfect. That's wasteful."

Rick leaned his weight into Ford helplessly, trapped between the two brothers. Ford held Rick as best as he could in that position.

"I once thought something very similar. I thought each person's story only had one writer. More than that and the story loses perspective and not everyone's perspective was worth reading. So in schools, I wrote essays and those led to college where I wrote case studies and articles. Pages and pages of my thoughts and hypotheses but they never felt finished. All of this led me to Gravity Falls.   
Feeling the need to tell my story, a story I felt was important to tell for it was my own, I wrote a book and then another. Each felt less finished than the last. Something was missing. So I began my third book and this one I truly could not finish. My pride and anger are what drove me into the multi-verse before I could fill the pages with my knowledge.   
I did retrieve my last book when I returned but only to find my great-nephew, Dipper, had been scribbling on the blank pages and in my research notes. He had kept a diary of his summer vacation. I was aggravated by this. A child writing in my research book. But as I read through his additions, I found them to be quite good. He answered questions I had had no answers for. The diary entries I thought he was writing were actually his own research notes and they were very good for a young man his age. His perspective made my book better. My narrative was richer for it. I began to write my story again but it still did not sound right so I added my family and suddenly it felt whole. For once I could finish and feel satisfied."

Ford paused in his narrative. He still felt ashamed of these feelings. That he'd rather be a famous scientist and alone than be a regular man surrounded by those he loved.

"I thought my story was perfect when I was alone but I was wrong. Adding to it only made it better. You could never make us any less than we are. You would only make it better. Love does not diminish love. It only grows." he caressed Rick's face as he spoke. "There are still adventures to be had and stories to tell. You said it yourself, we could turn the universe upside down together. Now we have Stan to keep us grounded. I trust you. Stanley and I would be honored to have you be part of our story. We'll find room for you... somewhere." he chuckled as he looked around the small room. "Or we can always get a bigger boat. We'll need more research space if we're working together anyhow." he smiled at Rick and leaned into him.

Rick wanted to pin it on Stan and Ford. On their bond making him inferior. But that was too harsh and in the long run untrue. Their bond didn't reduce him because it was something Rick could very well be capable of. Although the possibility of that turn of events lived on a far away shore from this little boat. Rick suddenly understood what the tightness in his chest was. The knowledge rippled through his mind, bringing satisfying clarity with it. Rick had felt this recognition pervading the muck of his thoughts on blackboards and over beakers but never so simply in the presence of another like this. He remained thoughtful and silent a moment. The waves outside and Stan's relaxed breath were the only things either of them heard.

"I have a grandson now. Did I tell you that?" Rick asked. He said it in a way that said the discussion wasn't over yet. Ford was starting to get an idea of what the challenge Rick was facing right now.

"You didn't but I believe I met him when I brought that message to your dimension." he said quietly.

"Oof, then maybe you saw what a mess he was. He's a spaz, he's a whiner, he messes up just about everything you throw at him. And let me just say, I've met eunuchs with more balls than Morty." Rick explained. He turned his head to look up at the ceiling. Ford's hand fell away and rested on Rick's collar bone.

"He doesn't make waves and lets everyone, including me, walk all over him." Rick didn't look to see the expression of consternation forming on Ford's face. He didn't need to. Rick chuckled and it was equal measures brackishness and something next door to tranquility.

"But you know what? That little shit is the only person who understands me enough to know who I am and he still," Rick sighed through his nose and spoke again, his voice stronger if not astounded by the reality of his words. "He still believes, under all the garbage, that I'm a good person. He doesn't think I need to - I don't know- be someone else or a better version of myself or something."

Rick lapsed back into thought a moment as the words hit home. He had never given credence to the concept that he could be himself and also be good. It was startling. Laying down, barring his soul like this, Rick felt stupidly like he was on a therapist's couch.

"This is pathetic." He said it like a disclaimer to his next sentence. "You know he's my only friend?"

"I'd say he's not your ONLY friend." Ford nuzzled Rick's jaw. His palm rested over Rick's heart. Rick eyed Ford as best he could from his position. He gave a wry smile.

"He's a good kid, is what I'm saying, and I don't deserve him but it's like... we're all we've got. I've got to look out for him. And while I'm sure you and Stan get up to all kinds of Hardy Boys shit out there, for me... It's not an adventure without Morty."

Rick wondered if this was what it was like to need someone. It was a fragile feeling that Rick didn't know if he liked being responsible for, like holding a priceless antique that didn't belong to you, but at the same time Rick had no desire to relinquish it. It was his and Rick was possessive. Rick tilted his head back to regard Ford. Ford looked back and Rick could see the brown of his eyes cast into bright jewel-like vibrancy in the band of sunlight.

"I want to stay, I do, but it's not as easy as all that. In that dumpy little suburb, I really could do something. There's something there, something with that stupid little dweeb and his bitchy sister and their mom that I didn't know I was capable of. The thing you and Stan have always had. Something you can't give me." It would have nauseated a more withdrawn Rick to say it but at this moment it was impossible to hide anything from Ford. Rick pulled his arm from around Ford and took the hand resting on his chest. With a soft delicate touch he placed Ford's hand atop Stan's. "Family."

He pressed his hand over theirs with a warm finality before pulling away and tucking his arm under his head. It was Rick choosing family over freedom this time and the irony was not lost on him. Rick would tell himself later that he hadn't gone native on the family thing. It would make him feel better in the cold light of day to make up an excuse but that was for later. This confession was for the place inside himself that Rick liked to pretend even he didn't know about.

In Ford's eyes Rick could see sadness but there was understanding there as well. He closed his eyes for a moment as if steeling himself, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips as he mentally prepared. When he opened his eyes again they were full of love for Rick. He took a breath and was about to speak before he was interrupted by a voice from Rick's other side, somewhere in the vicinity of Rick's armpit.

"Oh my God. So much talking. So early and so much talking." Stan grumbled as he lifted his head and rubbing his eye with the heel of one palm. "Don't even know what you guys were saying, just that you couldn't shut up. The first time in years I don't have to wake up to an alarm clock and I end up fucking two goddamn early birds." None of this was said with real malice but with generic early morning annoyance. Stan rolled over and stood from the bed with a noise that sounded like a disgruntled bear waking up from hibernation.

"I gotta hit the head." he grumbled yawning and stretching. As the door slid shut behind Stan, Ford gave Rick a long-suffering look.

"Well, that certainly killed the moment." he joked dryly. "What I was going to say was that I understand. Now. I believe I deserve a kiss before I have to tell that grumpy bear of mine the bad news." He smiled in the roguish way he knew made him look somewhat like Stanley.

The Rick of a few years ago would have been unable to cope with that smile and those eyes like dark polished carnelian. It would have made Rick immediately renege on all his declarations in favor of the instant gratification before him. Actually, Rick was surprised how easy it was to restrain himself. Rick tenaciously refused to believe he had grown or changed. Instead, he used his newly freed arms to take Ford's face in his hands and kiss him. It was without urgency, lips parting slightly to capture Ford's own. Rick took his time, sleepy and patient in his movements. Ford hummed his approval and slid his arms around Rick's waist and pulled him close. Ford liked this very much and though he wished Rick would stay more than anything, he did not push.

Rick pulled Ford over to straddle him, still kissing him. The kisses were shallow but full of a honeyed affection that melted into both of them. At last, Ford pulled away and looked down at the thin man beneath him. Rick fixed Ford with a pastiche of his tough-guy demeanor, all brazen angularity in his features. It was not an expert recreation, in fact Ford might even call it half-hearted, but he didn't say anything.

"And if you ever tell Morty I said any of that back there, I'll turn you inside out." Rick warned. He pointed a sharp finger in Ford's face. It was trying to be gruff but not all that hard. It transformed into a sideways grin. Ford chuckled.

"I would never betray your confidence." He leaned down for one more kiss and he savored it. There seemed to be something he wanted to say to Rick but he held back. With a soft sigh, he removed himself and got out of bed and walked over to the dresser.

The door opened to the bathroom then and Stan came back in looking considerably more awake than he had a few minutes ago. His eyes ran over the two men in the room.

"Now that is what I call a good morning." He joked and started to get back into bed.

"No Stanley. Put on some clothes. It's time to make breakfast." Ford admonished as he pulled on some soft pajama pants and a shirt.

"What? Why?" Stan asked surprised.

"Because it is." Ford said simply as he ran a big hand through his messy bed head. Stan looked at Rick as if he was expecting Rick to protest this injustice for him.

Rick sat up and returned the look, long face looking even more stretched with the height of his eyebrows and the confused way his lower lip drew downward. He shrugged, hands held out with palms flat, in a somewhat overdone indication that Ford was the boss and Rick had no clue how things worked on the ship so he had no say.

"Mutiny!" yelled Stanley "This is mutiny, goddamn it!"

Ford rolled his eyes. "For the last time Stanley you aren't the captain so there's no way there can be a mutiny." He came around the other side of the bed and slid an arm around Stan's waist and gave the man a sweet morning kiss. "I would never mutiny on you even if I could." He chuckled "Now put on some clothes and come along." Grabbing his glasses Ford headed to the galley. "Take your time Rick." He tossed over his shoulder.

Stan smiled after Ford. Sure, he was a little annoyed but he was so in love he couldn't really stay upset. Stan scooped up his boxers off the floor from the night before and pulled them on.

"Don't get used to this, Lover Boy. After today you'll have to pull your own weight around here." Stan chuckled as he leaned over the bed to kiss Rick. "Before you know it it'll be 'Come along Rick. Come along Stanley.'. Better get used to that, cause it's worth it." Stan grabbed a tank top out of their shared dresser and pulled it on as he followed Ford.

The door slid shut and Rick just watched it a moment, letting the realization of the decision he made cool and become solid, like a fired piece of china, still too hot to be touched. It was less heavy than he expected it to be. When Rick was left alone with his thoughts was when things started to go sour. When you were better at thinking than everyone else, overthinking was a constant.

Rick got out of bed and he was pleasantly sore all over. He used the head and figured out the tiny shower stall with more difficulty that he would care to admit. Only after he blasted himself with a jet of tepid water in the ass did he realize that the shower head was handheld and on a hose for rinsing off. Rick cleaned up as best he could. He held the shower head over his head to soak his hair. Muffled, he could hear Stan's and Ford's distinct voices from outside.

It started out as a quiet rumble. Just two men having a conversation in another room but then the tempo seemed to speed up until it Ford said one short thing. Then silence. It only lasted a moment though before Stan's deep voice could be heard quite clearly through the walls.

"What do you mean he's not staying?!?!"

The Pines brother's stood facing each other in the small walkway of the galley. Stan had a gobsmacked look on his face. Ford looked as taciturn as ever. The ingredients for breakfast were laid out on the counter all but forgotten in this new realization.

"There's no need to yell, Stanley." Ford said crossing his arms over his chest.

"What did you say to him? I know you two were talking for a while. What did you say that made him not wanna be here with us?" It was said with some anger and a bit of annoyance. A look of surprise passed over Ford's face and he was silent for a moment as his eyes passed over Stan.

"I asked him to stay." Ford turned back to the counter and pulled down a bowl from the cupboard. He didn't look at his brother as he added quietly. "He wants to be with his family. Neither of us can blame him for that."

Stan stood there quietly for a moment. The look on his face was repentant. One thick boxer's arm slid around Ford's waist. Stan kissed the side of his neck as his lover took down a measuring cup.

"I'm sorry. That was shitty of me."

"You should be and it was." Ford answered. He looked sidelong at Stan for a moment before he began measuring out pancake ingredients. Stan rested his chin on Ford's shoulder.

"You forgive me?"

Ford paused in what he was doing. He turned his head to better look at Stan.

"Am I still on probation?" He smiled a bit as he said it.

"Naw, I guess not." The broader of the two brothers chuckled as he held on a little tighter.

"Then you're forgiven." Ford said placing a quick kiss to Stanley's lips. "And we're having waffles instead of pancakes because you were rude to me."

Stan laughed again. "Jeez. I'm gonna have to take lessons from Rick to keep you in line." he teased. He went quiet a moment later. "it's gonna be rough saying goodbye." He added after a moment in a sullen tone. Ford stopped whisking the batter and placed a hand over Stan's.

"Perhaps he'll come visit. We hadn't discussed that much." he said hopefully. Stan was about to answer when the laptop on the galley table started making noise. A happy little jingle that let the brothers know that someone was calling them. Ford looked at the clock on the wall.

"It's almost eleven in Piedmont. Could Dipper and Mabel be calling at this hour?"

"They're thirteen, Sixer. We stayed up later than that when we were their age." Stan disentangled himself from his lover and opened the laptop. The screen confirmed that it was their grand niece and nephew calling. "We better pick up or Dipper's gonna think we got eaten by a sea monster or something."

Rick rung out his hair and, unable to find any towels, sat on the unmade bed, drip drying and listening to the voices, much clearer now through the thin door. His choice felt validated by the way he heard how the two men spoke frankly yet kindly to one another. Rick was prone to snap back when challenged the way Stan had just accused Ford and the idea of at once apologizing (or for that matter forgiving) before the sparks of confrontation could grow to into a full-blown argument was foreign to Rick. He knew people were supposed to 'talk things out' and 'not go to bed angry', but Rick never could give those ideas credit. That was where the Pines Brothers were different. Rick remembered Ford mentioning that he did sleep in his own bed with Stanley the night of their argument. Rick knew he would have been stuck up on deck, a stubborn yet thorny perch for passing seagulls if he had been in Ford's place.

Rick searched the room and found his underwear and pants crumpled to one side of the small cabin. He pulled them on and zipped them. As he was closing his belt he heard the tinny electric chirp from the other side of the door. He cocked his head to listen more closely.

"I suppose you're right. We'll keep it brief though." Ford said sliding into the booth seat opposite his brother.

"Those little knuckleheads did pick the worst time to check in on us old coots." Stan laughed as he clicked the green answer button. The first thing both men say was something that looked like two dark tunnels. They turned out to be Mabel's nostrils. The young girl pulled away enough that both men could at least see her braces as she smiled at them.

"Grunkle Stan! Grunkle Ford! What took you so long?!"

"Hey Mabel! Back up! I can't see." Dipper complained as he pulled gently on his sister. Both twins sat on one of their beds and looked like they had the day that Stan and Ford had put them on the bus back to California. Dipper wearing the hat Wendy had gifted him and Mabel in one of her many crazy sweaters.

"Hey kids! Good to see ya!" Stan said smiling.

"It is good to see the both of you but isn't it a little late." Ford said disapprovingly. Both Stan and Mabel made the same exasperated noise. Stan rolled his eyes as Mabel pleaded their case.

"It's Saturday night, Grunkle Ford, AND we did all our homework so don't worry about it."

"Besides," Dipper pipped in. "We hadn't heard from you since you were headed to Spain and we thought we should check in." From out of the camera's view the teen boy produced a notebook and a clicky pen which he promptly started clicking in a fast, excited way. "What category of ghost did you find? Were there ghosts at all? Are ghosts in other countries like the ones here or do they need a separate category system?"

Mabel looked at Dipper almost offended. "Dipper! You aren't asking the important questions!" Turning back to the screen Mabel leaned in and in a serious tone asked: "What weird stuff did you eat, Grunkle Stan?"

"Anchovies and blood sausage." was Stan's answer as if he was telling a ghost story.

"Gross!" Mable exclaimed laughing and smiling.

"Really Mabel?" Dipper rolled his eyes at his sister's antics. "Where are you headed next?"

Ford was smiling as he answered. He always enjoyed the antics of his family. "Italy. I've heard tell of a seven-headed dragon and a sorceress that lives in a swamp there."

The ecstatic sound that escaped Dipper was almost comical. "oh my gosh! Just like Dungeons, Dungeons and more Dungeons!"

"It could, in fact, be very similar, my boy." Ford laughed.

Rick could hear the conversation and decided that it was best to not dwell on any feelings when such a distraction was laid out before him. Rick did best when he didn't have a plan. He slid the door open with a clack and strode barefoot out of the bedroom.

"Look alive, bitches. Super genius on deck!" He hollered. The adult twins looked up with surprise. They had both half forgotten that Rick was there.

"Rick! Hold on!" Stan said trying to stall a shirtless Rick from coming into view. Ford's brow crinkled in consternation.

"If you could please watch your language, Rick." He said sternly.

"Woah-ho-ho! Who's that?" Mabel asked in her usual excited way.

Rick was heedless of Stan and Ford's concerns. He snatched up the milk carton from the counter and sauntered into view. He gave a swig from the carton and looked into the computer monitor at the children the way someone at the aquarium might observe the jellyfish tank.

"What do we have here? Stan, are these your little monsters?" He asked not looking away. He sounded pleasantly surprised. He shook out his still dripping hair a little, making the locks stand at their more customary if not wild angles. He placed a hand on his hip and continued to drink from the carton. If Dipper and Mabel knew who Mick Jagger was they might have made a connection that was cosmetic though perhaps through a geriatric lens.

One of Stan's big hands covered his eyes. He was still smiling through he had the decency to blush a little.

"Yup. That's them. The little knuckleheads themselves." He chuckled before peaking out at his brother through his fingers. Ford drummed his fingers on the table and looked nervously between his brother, his lover and his grand niece and nephew. Dipper had his usual skeptical look on his face.

"Grunkle Ford, who is that?"

Sighing in a resigned way Ford answered: "Kids, this is Rick Sanchez. An old friend of ours."

Stan chuckled across the table and Ford glared at him. Stan just shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest, accepting the situation as it was.

"Cool! Where you a juvenile delinquent with Grunkle Stan in New Jersey? " Mabel asked. Dipper didn't know if there was trouble with the connection but Rick's smile made him look like he had too many teeth. He wondered if there were any Mediterranean cryptids matching the vague description of "boney shark man". Rick thunked the carton onto the booth's table with a hollow sloshing noise and put both hands on to the table top to lean into the camera. Dipper noticed how the spikes of his pale blue hair tossed, fin-like and fought the sudden urge to start scribbling notes.

"Sorry, sweetie but your uncles and I didn't meet each other until the long long ago time of the nineteen eighties." He framed the decade with a playful semi-spooky warble to his voice. "Stan and me met in Oregon and Ford?" Rick glanced over to the man who had a sudden warning look of fear in his eyes. Rick had no intention of outing the seedier parts of Ford's travels but he did let him squirm a second longer than absolutely necessary before continuing "Well, we met just about everywhere else."

"A multiverse traveler!" Dipper exclaimed as he unceremoniously pushed Mabel aside. From off camera a high pitched and annoyed, "Dipper!" could be heard. But the young man ventured on heedless.

"Are you from another dimension? What makes your dimensions different from ours? How do you move between dimensions? Are you a shark-human?" Dipper babbled.

"Hey kid." Stan said in an annoyed fashion. "Maybe reel it in a bit huh?"

"Reel it in. I get it. Shark man humor." Rick chuckled. If there was any doubt over who the boy took after, his sudden insatiable curious put them to rest. The boy radiated an eager dorkiness that Rick recognized from the inside of a DD and More D book. Rick couldn't help his need to mess with him.

"In order: doy, by and large better Chinese food weird enough, as quickly as I can and I'm not saying I've eaten chum but I'm not saying I haven't either." Even with his sardonic words, Rick was cajoling the kids. Stan was reminded of Ricardo Sanderson and how Rick did have the ability to be charming, given that all the attention was on him and just how enthralling and interesting he was. Stan laughed, Ford groaned and rolled his eyes and Dipper scribbled furiously in his journal.

"He's weird! I like it! " Mabel exclaimed pushing in next to Dipper. She gasped. "Can he come to Gravity Falls when you guys visit next summer?"

The pines brothers shared a look then looked back at the twins in the laptop screen.

"Sweetie, it ain't that simple." Stan said trying not to seem sullen.

"Rick has his own family to get back to. It really isn't our decision to make for him" Ford continued.

"Oh come on!" Mabel protested and for once Dipper agreed with her.

"But I still have so many questions! It's research!"

Rick was weirdly touched by the enthusiasm the kids had for him. They were both just like their uncles, that was obvious. Maybe that's what drew Rick to them so easily but there was no question about it. There was a reason Stan had gushed about them back at the tapas place. As far as kids went, which were by and large terrible, these ones were at least distinct and interesting.

Rick couldn't help but see the sad glimmer in the eyes of the two men on either side of the table and that cut through the levity a little. Rick reared back to his full height, arms crossed a little stubbornly. He stuck his hip out to the side and squinted at the brothers.

"Hey now, I'm just going home. It's not Shawshank, I can leave whenever I want. Morty might benefit from getting chased through the woods by The Mothman. You two old men gotta learn to lighten up." He sniffed. Rick did his best to hide any betrayal of kindness beneath a judgmental snort.

There was a resounding whoop from the other side of the monitor which showed the younger twins excitement while the Pines brothers turned to look at Rick very surprised.

"Wait! Morty?" Mabel exclaimed. "A boy? Oh I can just imagine the summer romance now." She squealed as she dramatically flopped back on the bed. Dipper grabbed at the laptop before it could tumble off the bed from the aftershock of Mabel's flopping around.

"Mabel, be careful! Dad will kill me if we break it and all my guide to the unexplained videos are on here."

Stan was studying Rick. His eyes running over the tall man's form. "You mean that? You wanna come visit?"

Ford's face was tilted down but he did look at Rick questioningly from the corner of his eyes. Rick shrugged his shoulders in a way that said it didn't matter but he lifted his eyebrow in a silent and blithe provocation.

"I mean whatever. Let the little brats hang out and play Xbox. Where's the harm in that?" He scoffed. "I'll slum it with you guys if I have to. Why does it always have to be all or nothing with you two?" Rick added with relish.

While Ford's smile was soft and subtle Stan's smile almost split his face in two. He turned back to the laptop. "You kids better be ready to meet your Uncle Rick next summer but I don't wanna see you pickin' up any of his bad habits." he wagged his finger at the computer screen in a clearly comical way as the kids cheered and started chanting "Uncle Rick! Uncle Rick!"

Ford chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Don't you think 'Uncle Rick' is a bit much." He tossed a bright smile Rick's way.

"Lighten up, Sixer." Stan said and leaned across the table to playfully punch his brother in the arm.

"Yeah!! Uncle Rick!!" Rick hollered, pumping his own fists into the air. He gave over to the revelry, boisterously lifting his arms over his head and all but cackling at the chaos he had caused and the hidden triumph in his heart.

Ford shook his head good-naturedly as Stanley joined into the chant. Waddles, who had gotten a bit larger since Stan had placed the pig on the bus back to California, wanted to join the fun. He tried to hop up on the bed which prompted a yowl from Dipper and an excited squeal from Mabel. The twins looked up past the laptop as their bedroom door opened up. A man's voice said.

"Ok, you two. Settle down now. It's time for bed."

"Ok Dad." Dipper said around his chuckles.

"Let us say goodnight to the Grunks and it'll be lights out." Mabel hugged Waddles around his thick neck as she smiled at her father.

Stan nodded. "Your pop is right, kids. It's late over there."

"When'd you get all rulesy, Grunkle Stan?" Mabel asked with a pout.

"Mabel..." Ford said in a disapproving manner.

"Alright. I get it. Good night, Grunkle Ford. Good night, Grunkle Stan. Good night Uncle Rick." Mabel said with a wave.

"Good night. Let us know when you get to Italy." Dipper added before ending the call.

As soon as the call ended Stan stood from his seat and wrapped his arms around Rick's shoulders. He kissed the taller man.

"Mmm. You're done for now, buddy. Once those kids love you it's game over." he teased before giving Rick another kiss.

"Jokes on you, Stud. I can tell what a sucker you are for those little monkeys. It's all part of my plan. Ingratiate yourself to the children and you can get away with murder." Rick teased right back. He turned to sit on the edge of the table. He crossed his foot at the ankle and scooped up the milk carton.

"What do you say, beautiful? Can I mess with the boy? Bet I could whip up a tiger shark DNA cocktail. Nothing big. Webbed toes or a maybe a second row of teeth. I can have it put together by memorial day weekend easy." He asked, sipping from the carton again. Stan laughed. Ford looked mildly horrified.

"Please don't." The author said a tad exasperated. "Dipper is quite...jumpy. It would be best not to exacerbate that."

"I think it'd be funny. The kid could use some toughening up."

"Stanley."

"Ok. Ok. No shark Rick. Now you gonna make us pancakes or what, Poindexter?"

Ford stood from his seat and took the milk carton from Rick and shook it to make sure there would be enough to make breakfast while giving Rick a wry look.

"I believe it's possible but we'll need more milk when we make port and I'm making waffles Stan. We discussed it. Now, go shower and make sure to leave me some hot water."

"Yes, dear." Stan teased as he walked back towards the bedroom.

Rick stayed through breakfast and even into the late afternoon when Stan insisted that if it was going to be another year until he could see Rick again that there was no way they weren't spending some time on this beautiful ocean fishing. Rick hemmed and hawed and teased Stan for being the main candidate for an AARP commercial but he sat in the folding chair and threw a line over the side. They caught nothing. Neither of them cared.

During their "wrangle with the monsters of the deep" as Stan put it, Ford sat in the wheelhouse, both doors open to let the breeze pass through. He worked on translating Enriqeuta's diary and took long moments to watch Rick and Stan carouse and cajole each other. Rick approached him and they sat together a while. Now that they didn't have the dire straights of Ford's lifestyle separating them, the pair actually had time to talk science, trading theories and studies. Within the hour, Enriqeuta's diary had been forgotten on the table and Ford and Rick were on the wheelhouse roof tinkering with the wires and connections of the antennas in an attempt to recalibrate and improve performance to Ford's radar and many other instruments. Stan called the men a couple of eggheads but smiled up at them squinting into the midday sun.

Rick ensured the twins that he could rig the satellite to pick up interdimensional cable. Ford was intrigued but politely declined while Stan, on the other hand, didn't know what that was but could dissect the individual words and was overjoyed at the prospect of receiving stolen cable in international waters and encouraged Rick heartily.

There was a lingering desire to give soft kisses or touch gently. The urges snuck up on each of them individually at different times, brought on by the sound of a laugh, the flash of sunlight on pale hair or just a prolonged look that each of them hoped the others didn't notice. No one brought it up if they did. They dismissed it as it felt too sentimental, instead just enjoying the company of the others.

The sun was beginning to dip below the water line far in the distance before Rick finally acknowledged that it was time for him to go. The breeze off the water was cool but not uncomfortable. The three of them stood on deck. Rick approached Ford first. He stayed a respectable foot away but looked at him with an honest affection.

"Better fuck off before I cramp your style." He said through an easy smile. Ford chuckled. It was a bit sad but resigned.

"I never would have believed you thought I had style." he said looking up at the other man. "If I do have some I can't imagine you'd cramp it."

"You don't. But you've got him to make you look good." Rick teased, nodding at Stan. Rick reached out and took Ford's arm at the bicep. He leaned in and kissed Ford not on the cheek but not on the lips either. It was at the corner of his mouth and it was unusually chaste for Rick.

"Take care of him, alright?" He added. It was heartbreakingly earnest but gone before Ford could examine it further. Ford nodded.

"You have my word."

Rick seemed satisfied with that. He nodded then stepped over to Stan. He punched Stan in the shoulder softly.

"I think I'll miss you most of all, Scarecrow." Rick told him with an attempt to be sanguine. There was still a distinct melancholy to it.  
Stan was not taking this in stride like his brother. His hands were stuffed in his pants pockets and his shoulders were hunched in a defiant way. He looked very much like a petulant child.

"Yeah. Yeah. Joke it up buddy." he grumbled as he looked down at the deck and shuffled his feet. Rick seemed to mimic the pose by putting his own hands in his pockets and slumping his shoulders forward to put himself on an angle where he could look up into his face.

"Oh come on, don't be like that." He said, trying to keep things light but hopefully not so light as to make Stan feel like he was being toyed with. "You got Mr. Wonderful back and the life of adventures you were always too scared to actually go for. You've been looking for that from the minute you walked into Palmer's and you did it all without any of my help. It's not like one dirty old man in your life's gonna make much difference."

Perhaps Rick and Ford had just stepped into the realm of understanding their love for each other, and that made it easier to know how to turn it off. They were both very good at compartmentalizing after all but it wasn't like he and Stan who had tended to that feeling for years.

Stan looked at Rick and for a moment it seemed like he wasn't going to speak. That his defiance was so deeply planted that he would refuse this goodbye. Then he made a grumbling "hmph." noise and pulled his hands from his pockets to cross his arms over his chest.

"I'm a greedy man, Rick. You worked on my books for years so I guess you'd know that. I want ya both. I've wanted ya both for years but ya had to actually listen to me for once and go find your family. You are just so damn frustrating sometimes." there was a lightened air to how he spoke now. He was letting go. He was letting go begrudgingly but he was doing it. "Don't you dare make me a liar to those kids. You better be in Gravity Falls next summer or I ain't gonna forgive you."

Rick softened at that response. It was as close as collapsing into Rick's arms in a sobbing heap as he could get and Rick preferred it that way.

"Yeah sure. But just to get in good with to the little brats." Rick said it in an airy way as if the kids could be of some use to him if they were foolish enough to trust him. That was never too far from the realm of possibility. Rick closed the space between them to just a step and placed a hand on the side of Stan's head. He pressed his palm along Stan's jaw. "Quit that face. It'll stick. And while I think anything's an improvement to that mug, Spock over there has to wake up to it every morning."

He nodded to Ford in acknowledgment. It was a joke but Rick would eat his own fist before he'd admit to the tightness in his throat that he could hear quite clearly. Hooking one hand around Rick's wrist, Stan leaned in, pressing their foreheads together.

"Took you this long to figure out how ugly I really am, huh?" he chuckled. It didn't last long. He leaned into Rick with his eyes closed and a pained look on his face.

"Stanley." Ford called softly, ready to both support Stan and be the tough one if need be.

"I know Sixer. I know. Just... Another minute."

"Buck up, Stanley." It was a whisper. Stan could hear the smile in Rick's voice but he could also hear the regret. He knew by the teasing way Rick had decided to use his full name, Rick was trying to deflect sorrow with a dry wit as he always did. The way Rick's hand tightened at the base of his neck, pressing their foreheads that closer cued him to Rick's feelings as well.

"Alright," Rick croaked, sighing through the emotion and conquering it. He lifted his head and moved his hand to clap Stan's shoulder and squeeze. Stan still held on. Rick looked into Stan's face with a strong sure look, not emotionally neutral but leaning toward compassion. He was more staunch when he spoke again, just about having swallowed the lump in his throat. "You're in good hands."

Stan pulled away slowly and felt his brother's six-fingered hand rub his back reassuringly. Stan looked at Ford and smiled.

"I know I am." he turned back to Rick. "Don't get yourself killed or arrested out there."

Rick saw the way the pair looked at each other and felt not a twinge of jealousy. Instead, there was an adoration there. Rick had always thought himself Stan's semi-casual boyfriend and Ford's semi-serious friend with benefits but he liked this single definition better than the many grey areas of the in between. In the long run being alone was better for Rick. Being alone didn't mean being lonely. Rick brought out his portal gun and dropped his head to one side in a mock pose of annoyance.

"You never let me have any fun." He joked. Stan slid an arm around Ford's trim waist.

"Fine. Go blow something up then. But don't forget next summer." He said pulling Ford closer.

"Take care of yourself, Rick." Ford said as he put an arm around Stan's shoulders.

Rick nodded and lifted the portal gun in a lazy salute. He turned and triggered a portal a few feet away. He tucked the gun away and walked toward it in a slow and easy gait. He didn't turn but lifted his hand above his head to wave as he walked away. He lowered it and put both hands in his pockets adding to his relaxed posture. Rick Sanchez left the Pines brothers and went home.

The brothers watched the portal blink out of existence. They stood there for a moment then Stan pulled away and walked over to the chain for the anchor and started to pull it in.

"Are you alright, Stanley?" Ford asked softly. Stan paused in his task and turned to his brother with a smile.

"Summer ain't far off. Now let's see if we can get to port before sundown."

Ford chuckled then walked over to his lover and kissed him soundly.

"That's a good plan, Stanley. Let's see what adventures we can encounter next."He smiled as he moved to the wheelhouse to set their course.


End file.
